The Courage To Heal
by bri wesmoreland
Summary: Enterprise's Chief Engineer's journey of self-discovery as he examines the trajectory of his life, love and loss. Where will it lead him? (Trip and T'Pol's relationship trough the Expanse starting with the episode "Harbinger," through "Home," "Bound," "Demons" and "Terra Prime," then it goes AU).
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Hello! It's been a while since I posted a story. This is not a lovely romance, it's rocky, but it has its moments. I hope you'll give it a chance. Reviews are greatly appreciated. It has not been beta read so all mistakes, errors, etc. are my own.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Enterprise characters, they are borrowed purely for entertainment purposes here and no profit was made from this story.

Thanks to all! Bri

* * *

Friends With Benefits

The Delphic Expanse, 2253.

Enterprise had been in the area of space known as the Delphic Expanse for several months now looking for the Xindi weapon. Their mission was to destroy it, and they intended to, by any means necessary.

The mission had been nothing short of harrowing, and it had taken a toll on the entire crew. Therefore, crew members were finding ways to relieve their stress anyway they could. Some hit the gym a couple of times a day and worked themselves into oblivion. Others engaged in marathon card games and various forms of gambling, making bets out of almost anything, while some preferred pulling double duty shifts. Then of course there was the age old, sure-fire, stress reliever of all times, sex. Captain Archer had become like a possessed madman since they started searching for the Xindi weapon and was paying little to no attention to the things going on among the crew. And there was a lot going on.

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker had lost his sister in the Xindi attack on Earth, but had not been able to really grieve the loss. The result was insomnia and anxiety. Commander T'Pol had been recruited by Dr. Phlox to help him out by performing a type of Vulcan massage therapy on him. It required the two senior officers to spend a lot of time alone in close quarters. It required a lot of touching, and was also very intense and very intimate.

He had been attracted to her for a long time and had developed feelings for her, he just didn't know exactly what they were. After months of dancing around the subject, it was _she_ who had gotten him to admit that _he_ was attracted to her. Then the unthinkable happened, one night after a spirited session, she simply dropped her robe from around her, revealing her gorgeous, petite, perfect, naked body. After that she had all but pounced on him.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have believed that they would end up naked in her quarters, rolling around on the floor, then on the bed, then in the shower. But it had happened. They had spent the night in each other's arms after several rounds of intense, passionate, wonderful sex, and she had made all the moves. But then came the morning after.

She thanked him kindly, then told him to buzz off. Just an experiment she had said, ("_this is a test, this is only a test!")._ It meant nothing to her, nothing at all. _He_ meant nothing to her.

Trip worked alone for most of the day. He was fuming. He felt stupid and used. How could he have thought that they could actually have a relationship? If that's what he thought. It all happened so fast that he hadn't had time to think about what the act meant. All he knew is that at the time it seemed like a grand idea. She wanted him, and she had made her intentions known rather clearly. Now, he would just have to forget that it had ever happened.

=/\=

Three Days Later. 2300 hours.

Trip's door chime went off. He looked at his chronometer. Couldn't be anybody but Jon or Malcolm as no one else would come to his quarters this late.

"Come in," he said absently as he sipped his glass of milk. When the door slid open, he almost spit it out.

"Good evening Commander," T'Pol said.

"Evenin'," is all Trip said in reply, trying to hide his surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"I wished to speak to you about a problem with my console on the bridge. However, I have not seen you for several days."

"You could have just sent me a message," the engineer replied as she handed him a padd. He didn't even look at it and said, "I'll get one of my guys to look at it tomorrow."

"The science station console is a sensitive piece of equipment and critical to my job performance. I would rather you look at it personally," she said in return. Trip just stared at her.

"Fine," he said after a few moments, moving toward the door. "Good night Commander." But T'Pol did not move.

"You have not been to the bridge in three days."

"So," Trip replied.

"You haven't joined the Captain and I for dinner in the Captain's mess either."

"And?"

"Each time I have looked for you in engineering, you were working in some obscure area of the ship."

"T'Pol, just what are you gettin' at?" he asked clearly annoyed.

"You are avoiding me."

"So, what if I am?" he replied.

"You are offended that I did not view our mating in the same way you did."

"First of all, animals _mate. _I just thought we were doing something a little more, oh I don't know_, intimate, real_. Turns out we were just screwing."

"Screwing?" T'Pol asked, but Trip just glared at her. "I did not mean to upset you," she said in a low voice.

"I'm not upset!" he said, then realized he was raising his voice. He softened a bit. "I just thought we were close… _friends_."

"We are close; we are friends. Are we not?" the Vulcan asked genuinely confused.

"Yeah…at least I thought so."

"Are you saying since we ma…since we were intimate, we are no longer close friends?"

"T'Pol look," the frustrated man started. "For a lot of humans, sex complicates things, especially when you don't have an understandin' about it."

"I was under the impression that human males enjoyed having multiple sex partners without commitment or emotional attachment."

"Not everybody feels that way. I'm the type that likes to know what I'm doing with a woman- where we stand, so I'll know how to act."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means I like to know little things about the woman I'm sleeping with like, are we dating?" he replied. "Are we, uh… exclusive? Are we friends with benefits, or are we just screwing? You made it pretty clear to me that we were just doing the latter."

"Why must humans attach a title to everything, attempt to place a label or define everything?" T'Pol asked. "Some things simply are what they are. Why can't you leave it at that?"

"Like I said, I like knowing so I'll know how to act, the frustrated man replied. "Now I know, so good night Commander."

Again, T'Pol did not leave. She did move closer to him, however, right into his personal space. He looked at her trying to figure out what she was doing. "Suppose I wanted to stay?" she asked looking into his eyes as she pressed up against him.

He swallowed hard. "St-stay?" he replied.

"Yes," she said running a finger along the side of his face. "What if I said, I would like to stay with you…all night. We could talk some more," she said as she ran her finger over his lips. "Or, we could…"

He grabbed her hand removing it from his face. "T'Pol, w-what are… you doing?" he stammered feeling his body responding to her closeness and her touch.

Then she stood on her tip-toes, pulled his face down to her and kissed him. After the shock wore off, he kissed her back.

"Thought you said I was just a lab rat?" he asked warily.

"I said that I was exploring human sexuality. I see no reason to discontinue that exploration." With that he picked her up and carried her over to his bunk. Clothes began to fly off and they were lost in the passion of one another for several hours. But, when he reached for her in the middle of the night, she was gone.

The next day Trip tried to sit with T'Pol at lunch, but she made a quick exit as soon as she noticed him walking toward her table. Then he tried to talk to her on the bridge, but she was cold and dismissive. He tried to get her to have dinner with him that night, she refused. By now he was pretty pissed off. She had done it again, seduced him, used him, and tossed him to the side.

=/\=

A Week Later. Command Center, Morning Staff Meeting.

All of the senior officers were present. The Captain had news and everyone was anxious to hear what it was. But something else was going on too. There was so much tension in the room between the two senior officers that everybody knew something was wrong.

"A few days ago, a telepathic alien that had contacted Hoshi, gifted us with some valuable information," the Captain began. "Initially, he wanted to keep her in exchange for this information. But we _persuaded_ him otherwise," Archer said looking over at the linguist. "Eventually we were able to obtain the coordinates of a planet where this alien says a chemical called "kemosite" is being manufactured. It may well be used to fuel the weapon the Xindi are building."

"That's great news!" Trip said. "Finally, we're gettin' somewhere!"

"How soon before we get there, sir?" Malcolm asked. "I'd like to have all the necessary weapons prepared in advance."

"It'll take us three days to get there from our current position," the Captain stated. "But instead of preparing weapons, Malcolm, I want you to assemble a team. Upon arrival, we are going to confirm the location of the plant and the chemical. Then, I want to engage the Xindi Abboreals we believe are making the kemosite…"

"What?" Trip interrupted. "Engage!" Travis and Hoshi looked at one another, then at Malcolm.

"I'm not certain I follow Captain," the Englishman said with a puzzled look on his face.

"I said, assemble a team," Archer repeated. "We're going down to the planet surface to talk to the folks responsible for making that chemical!"

"You mean we're not going to blow that blasted plant to smitherine!" Trip countered, "sir?"

"No, we're not," Archer answered in a firm voice.

Trip's face contorted a bit, then turned beet red. "With all due respect Captain," the engineer pushed further, "but why the hell not?"

Archer leaned on the smart table before speaking, his nostrils flaring and his eyes squinting a bit. "Blowing that plant up will just slow them down, not stop them," he said in a hard tone. "I want to get more information about the weapon. If we blow the plant up, that will just tip them off that we're on to them and we'll lose our advantage."

"Captain, I understand that reasoning to a degree," Malcolm interjected. "But wouldn't it put us at more of a disadvantage if that chemical gets off that planet?"

"Like I said Lieutenant," Archer replied, "we're NOT going to eliminate the plant! We need information and I intend to get it!"

"Well, I guess if we did blow the plant up, we could kill innocent people just doing their jobs," Travis said.

"Yeah, 'cept they're not innocent people!" Trip snapped. "They're killers, and we were sent to find 'em. So now we've found 'em, and we're supposed to do nothing, just talk to 'em?" Trip complained. "Just what are we hoping to find out anyway? Are we waiting for the Xindi to attack again so we'll know for sure they mean to kill us all!"

"Commander, you may not agree with nor perceive our current assignment as logical, but we have our orders," T'Pol said before Archer could respond. "We are to locate the chemical plant and engage the Xindi for information only. We will not destroy the plant and that is all. I suggest we follow those orders."

"I wasn't talkin' to you!" Trip snapped back quickly, unable to conceal his anger and frustration. "I was talkin' to the Captain, and the last time I looked _you_ were not the Captain!"

Malcolm cringed, Hoshi and Travis looked wide eyed as the Captain closed his eyes and pinched his nose at the bridge.

"Commander, there is no need to be curt, I was simply stating the facts," T'Pol replied.

"Well I didn't ask you to _state the facts_ about anything to me!" Trip shot back in return. Everyone looked at Trip, then back at T'Pol, as if watching a tennis match.

"I would have thought that by now, you would have learned to govern your emotions," she stated firmly. "Especially in a senior staff meeting. Your outbursts sometimes border on unprofession-alism."

"Unprofessionalism!" Trip shouted, "How dare you! If anybody is unprofessional…"

"Commander, stand down," T'Pol interrupted, rising to meet his glare as they both leaned over the smart table. "_You_ are out of line."

"You haven't seen me get out of line yet, _Commander!" _the Chief Engineer said through clenched teeth as veins popped out the side of his neck.

Archer blew out a long sigh as visions of the first year aboard the ship flashed through his mind when he had to break up many a squabble between his first and second officer. "That's enough!" he finally said. "You two need to go to separate corners, now!"

The two officers continued to stare at one another for a few moments. Finally, Trip stepped away from the console and T'Pol stood up straight, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Alright you have your orders… dismissed," the Captain said. As the officers turned to exit the room, Archer stopped them. "That is everybody but Commanders Tucker and T'Pol. I'd like to have a word with the two of you."

Travis, Malcolm and Hoshi exited the room quickly, looking back as they left. Archer then turned to his two senior officers. "I don't know what the hell that was all about," he barked. "But I didn't like it, not one bit! I thought the two of you were past the petty bickering! Was I wrong?"

"No Captain," T'Pol replied.

"No Captain, we're…fine," Trip hesitated.

"Are you sure?" Archer asked, as he looked back and forward at each of them, struggling to contain his own anger and frustration. "Because I don't have time to play referee! You're senior officers and this mission is too important for juvenile antics!"

"I assure you Captain, there is no problem between Commander Tucker and myself," T'Pol replied calmly. "I apologize for causing you concern."

"She's right Captain, there's no problem," Trip lied. "And I'm sorry too sir. Just a little frustrated. It won't happen again."

"Make sure that it doesn't", Archer scowled. He looked at the two of them knowing something was not right, but didn't want to get into it at the moment. "Dismissed".

T'Pol simply nodded.

"Aye Captain," Trip replied. Then they both turned and left the Captain standing in the command center.

As soon as the door slid closed and the two officers were alone in the corridor, Trip grabbed T'Pol's arm. "We need to talk," he snapped. "I mean it, today!"

"As you wish Commander," T'Pol said. "Lunch, my quarters, 1200 hours."

"I'll be there," he said and they walked away in different directions.

=/\=

Engineering. Trip's Office.

"What was that all about?" Malcolm asked as he entered his friend's office a few minutes later.

Trip looked up at the brit from a padd he was reading. "Captain's made his decision," Trip said. "There's nothing more to be said about it. 'Course if it was up to me, I'd blast that goddamned chemical plant to hell! But it's not up to me."

"I concur!" Reed said leaning against Trip's desk, folding his arms across his chest. "But that's not what I was referring to. I meant, what was that little exchange between you and T'Pol all about?"

Trip bristled a bit and tried to hide his anger. "Oh. Nothing. That was nothing!"

"Nothing? Sure mate!" Malcolm replied. "I'll say it was nothing. I thought the two of you were going to rip one another's clothes off and have a go at it right there on top of the smart table in the command center in front of us all."

Trip got up quickly and closed the door then whipped around to face the Englishman. "Malcolm! Are you crazy or something, saying that kind of shit all out in the open!"

Malcolm looked around. "Looks like it's just you and me here Commander."

"C'mon Mal," Trip said, dropping down in his chair and brushing back his hair with both hands. "Are we that obvious?"

Malcolm laughed a little. "No not really. But those of us who know you well can see that something is going on. Of course, there are rumors and gossip flying around."

"That's nothing new. People have been gossipin' 'bout me and T'Pol long before there was a me and T'Pol… You think, think Jon suspects anything?"

"No, I don't think so," Malcolm replied. "The Captain's total concentration is the Xindi and the Xindi alone. He can't really focus on anything else you know."

"Yeah, when it comes to this mission, he has complete tunnel vision. And don't get me wrong Mal, I wanna get those bastards as much as anybody. Hell, I have more reason to want revenge more than anybody else on this ship, but I don't want my need for revenge to totally consume me. And, trust me, it's really hard not to go down that road!"

There were a few moments of silence. Malcolm knew that Trip and Jon were drifting apart and that this mission was the cause of it. "Well, uh…about T'Pol," he finally said. "Why don't you talk to her, before the two of you get yourselves into trouble."

"Yeah, I intend to do just that. That woman has a knack for getting under my skin and driving me crazy!"

"Well that will never do," Malcolm said. "You shouldn't allow her to dictate how things are going to go. Take control of the situation, don't let her to lead you around like some trained seal."

"Whadda you mean by that?" Trip asked. "How do I take control of the situation? What am I supposed to do?"

"Tell her that you're not going to stand for her little games any longer!" Malcolm spat, pointing a finger at the engineer. "That either she wants to be in a relationship with you or she doesn't!"

"Yeah…yeah, you're right!" Trip said, sitting up straight.

"Tell her that you're not some bloody specimen for her to conduct her experiments on and you won't be toyed with again!"

"I won't be toyed with again!" Trip repeated.

"That she is to make a decision or your interactions from this day forward are to be purely of a professional nature, period!"

"Geez, that's good Mal," Trip beamed. "I should be writing this down."

"No, you shouldn't," Malcolm said in return. "I don't get you mate. A beautiful woman just wants to lay and play with you and you want a commitment? You're nuts!"

"Not so much a commitment, but at least an understandin'. People just think I'm the resident playboy. I'm not; you know it and I know it. Everybody else can assume what they want, but I just want one woman, always been that way."

"Okay Trip, whatever you say," Malcolm grinned.

"Oh hey, I gotta go. I'm meeting her for lunch. I'm gonna tell her exactly what you said."

Malcolm laughed a bit. "Well, good for you," he said and patted Trip on the back who then dashed out of the door past Mal. "Remember, take control of the situation!" Malcolm called out after him.

=/\=

T'Pol's Quarters. 1200 Hours.

Trip pressed the door chime to T'Pol's quarters. He heard her say come in then slipped in to the room carrying a tray with a salad, fruit and sandwiches. When he entered the room and glanced over at her bunk, the tray of food he was carrying slid right out of his hands onto the floor. She was dressed in nothing but a black tie around her neck and black high heel pumps. She stretched out on the bed in a pose as he stared in disbelief. She then beckoned for him to come over.

At first, he couldn't move. Finally, he staggered over to the bunk. They drowned themselves in deep kisses. She literally ripped his clothes off of him and mounted him. He was helpless.

Afterward, they jumped in the shower together and then she slipped out of her quarters and ran to his, grabbed a uniform for him to replace the one she had torn to shreds, threw it in a bag to conceal it and tried to slip out of his quarters unnoticed. She brought the uniform to him, he changed into it quickly and they went back to work. They were both late.

=/\=

That night Trip asked T'Pol to meet him on the observation deck. She did so.

"Is there any reason why we could not meet in your quarters or mine?" she asked him.

"Too dangerous," he replied. "Look T'Pol, I've been trying to talk to you about us for the last week. But, every time we meet in one of our rooms, we end up in bed."

"Have you not found our encounters…agreeable?"

Trip rolled his eyes. "That's just it darlin'. I've found our _encounters_, if that's what you want to call 'em, more than agreeable. It's just that "_I"_ don't know what to call 'em. I don't know what to call _us_."

"So, we are back to definitions and labels."

"Yes, yes we are. I need to know something. Maybe you don't but I do. What are we doing?" T'Pol just stared. "Look, I'm not gonna keep sneakin' around, jumpin' in and out of bed with you. I'm just not wired that way."

"Wired?"

"That's not the way I am," the engineer explained. "I need to know where we stand. So, are we dating?"

"Vulcans do not date."

"Fine. What do you do?"

"Vulcans rarely, if ever engage in sexual activity outside of marriage. However, it is not unheard of. And, since you require a label to our _liaisons_…" Trip frowned, unsure where this was going.

"Commander, the other day you alluded to the concept of "friends with benefits."

Trip raised both eyebrows. "I did. Why?"

"I did some research into this concept," T'Pol replied, (meaning she had asked Hoshi what it meant). "Would you be interested in participating in such an arrangement, for now. That could give us time to explore whether more is possible between a human and a Vulcan…if there could be more between us."

Trip smiled. "Friends with benefits huh? Okay, I can live with that for now. We'd still be close friends, respect each other, look out for each other; continue to work well together. But, occasionally, hopefully more often than not, engage in some intimate _liaisons_."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "That would be agreeable," she said. "We will need to be discreet however."

"Of course. One other thing," Trip said smiling and pulling her close to him. "I wouldn't wanna have hot and heavy _intimate liaisons_ with someone who calls me _Commander_ while we're going at it. When we're off duty, it's Trip or the deal's off."

T'Pol looked into his eyes. "Trip it is then," she said. He smiled, then they kissed.

And for the next several months, friends with benefits worked. It wasn't what Trip wanted, but it was something. T'Pol on the other hand, was enjoying their arrangement more than she ever would have believed, or admit. In the meantime, the toll of the Expanse and the mission continued to wreak havoc on everyone.


	2. Chapter 2

What Happened in the Expanse- _Didn't Stay in the Expanse_

The mission in the Expanse proved more of a challenge than anyone bargained for, and in order to achieve its goal Captain Archer had had to make some tough decisions along the way. For one, he had to resort to doing things he had never thought he'd do, such as torture, bribery and stealing.

Jon felt his ethics were really compromised when Trip was badly injured. His life was essentially over and he was going to die. Jon had no family to speak of and Trip had always been the adopted little brother he'd never had. But seeing Trip lying there for weeks, death impending, Jon realized he couldn't bear it. If he died so went the closest friendship he had and the last real link to his father. A. G. was already gone and so were several others that shared a close relationship with his father. No, Trip couldn't die…because he was Jon's friend…he was family. Then there was the mission.

Perhaps someone else could fill Trip's shoes, and they were pretty big shoes to fill. Although Trip didn't act like it, he really was the resident genius. Those who knew him well, those who had worked closely with him, along with Starfleet brass, all knew that Commander Charles Anthony Tucker, III, was simply put, brilliant. He was the best engineer in the fleet and would certainly command his own ship one day. How could Jon trust anyone else with what had to be done for this mission to be a success? Sure, there were other capable engineers. Lt. Hess, Trip's second, was actually developing into a fine engineer and she would make a really good Chief someday in the future. But there was no one else like Trip.

Jon had inquired at headquarters and was told that a Lt. Commander Kelby was available and that he was top shelf. He could perhaps fill in nicely. Yeah right! No one else had the pedigree that Trip had and everyone knew it. He had practically written the book on advanced warp theory and was implementing new and innovative ideas all the time. Unfortunately, that's how he had become injured in the first place.

But Phlox had provided a way out, a symbiot. Inject it with Trip's DNA and it would create a clone of Trip that would live and die all within a span of fifteen days. Phlox would use the clone's brain tissue to operate on Trip and save the engineer's life. What could be wrong with that?

For starters, the clone didn't die in fifteen days, he was sentient, as Phlox would come to discover. Next, he had Trip's memories, and he wanted to live, he didn't want to die. It was a mess. But Jonathan Archer had a duty and he needed his chief engineer. He didn't have time for the clone to get up to speed to where Trip was as an elite engineer, the finest in the fleet. Plus, he needed his friend. So, he made a decision, a damned tough one, one that he would have to live with for the rest of his life but he was prepared to do that…or was he? Nevertheless, he gave the order. Sim, the clone had to die so Commander Charles Tucker, III, could live. After all, Sim's life had had one purpose and one purpose alone, to save the life of another, and damn it, Jon wasn't going to feel guilty about that! At least that's what he kept telling himself.

A few weeks later, the entire incident was over, at least for now, and at least the mission to save Earth didn't have to be in jeopardy. But the Expanse was unrelenting and it was determined to have them as it had taken the Seleya. A Vulcan ship full of Vulcans…sick, doomed to death Vulcans. They had gone mad and couldn't be saved according to Phlox and it was the Captain who had given the order to kill them. Phlox had confirmed that their fate had been sealed long before the Enterprise had stumbled upon the Seleya, but Jon still secretly agonized over whether or not he had tried hard enough to save them.

If that wasn't enough, still the Expanse persisted. After damaging their warp reactor and not being able to obtain another, Archer had ordered the senior officers and a group of MACOs to participate in the aggravated robbery, violent taking, grand theft, of the warp core from the alien Illyrian ship. None of his officers had wanted to do it…but they had no choice. He had not given them one. Trip had even tried to let him off the hook by telling him he'd done the right thing, but he knew he'd been wrong, crossed the line. If not, he wouldn't feel the way he did about it. Several times he'd thought about trying to find the Illyrians and restoring their warp core so they could finally get home. But who was he kidding? They were probably long dead by now, either because they were attacked by a hostile species and unable to escape, or they ran out of fuel as they limped along out there at very low impulse. In that case that would make him responsible for their demise.

Then there was Hoshi. She had been kidnapped by the Xindi, and infected with parasites. She was in no condition to leave sick bay and go on an away mission, but Jon had her wheeled away on a stretcher and carried her over to the weapon to do her thing. After all, she was the only one that could have translated the instructions to disarm the weapon. If he had he not done what he did, the weapon may not have been destroyed, so Jon refused to feel bad at the time. Hell, somebody had to be the bad guy, and since he was the Captain, he had decided that it might as well be him.

The Expanse had cost Jon so much, friendships, respect, honor, his ethics. Even his close relationship with Trip. After all that business with the clone and after Trip recovered from his near fatal injury, Jon thought it best to pull back, partly out of guilt, but mostly because he didn't want to be close to anyone again, even Trip, especially Trip. Anyone could lose their life at any time because of his decisions, because of this mission, because of him. Therefore, it was best to just stay clear, to not be close to anyone. So, the Captain locked himself away in his ready room, his quarters, or his private mess hall, and only talked to crew about the mission. So maybe it did cause him his friendship with Trip, his relationship with the senior staff, his ethics and some of his integrity. So what if he felt like a fraud, a monster, whatever! He had won! No, United Earth had won, and the Xindi had lost!

When it was over, there were numerous casualties and fatalities. Some people were changed forever. Some crewmen elected not to return to active duty aboard Enterprise, some were unable to due to life changing injuries, both physical and psychological. But in the end, at the end of the day, Jon had done what he had to do to save United Earth.

=/\=

Mission End, Jupiter Station.

Enterprise, Captain's Quarters.

It had taken a year, but now that the Xindi weapon was destroyed and the Xindi were no longer a threat, the Enterprise was back on Earth. The ship was being refitted and after a much-deserved welcome home and celebration, the crew had been granted an eight-week leave. Everyone was scurrying about, packing, saying goodbye to those who were not returning, and catching shuttles to their various destinations.

Jon had spent the last couple of days being debriefed by Starfleet and Vulcan officials regarding his report of the Xindi mission. In front of the world it had been all smiles and applause, accepting medals and congratulations. Behind closed doors however, there were a lot of questions to be answered about a lot of questionable decisions he'd made in the expanse. He had been grilled and called on the carpet regarding several things, the destruction of the Seleya had been one of them. Jon felt like he was on trial with no one there to defend his actions, but himself. He could have asked Phlox and his senior staff to join him, to back him up, but he had not done it. He had faced the music alone. After all, he was the Captain and the buck stopped with him.

That night Jon lay on his bed feeling lonely, disgusted and guilty as hell, thinking about the events of the day and trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do with himself for next two months. As long as he was busy and had something really important to focus on, he did fine, but idleness, or having too much time to think about things, brought too many bad memories back to the surface. As he lay thinking, suddenly there was a loud thud from inside his ceiling. He jumped, then there it was again. It was as if something or someone was trying to break through it. Jon got up and pressed his comm.

"Archer to security." No one answered. He tried again. "This is Captain Archer to security, respond!" Suddenly, the ceiling began to crack as the pounding from the inside of it continued. "This is Captain Archer to Lt. Reed!" Jon called trying to reach Malcolm directly. "Reed respond, that's an order!"

"Reed here," Malcolm responded sleepily. "What can I do for you Captain?"

"I need a security team in my quarters right away, someone is trying to break through my ceiling!"

"Break through the ceiling?" Reed repeated.

"You heard me!" Archer replied, "Now get down here with a team now!"

=/\=

The Next Morning, Mess Hall.

Trip grabbed a tray and sought out Lt. Reed and made his way over to his table. He looked at his

friend who didn't look quite as crisp as he usually did early in the morning.

"Mornin'," Trip said, and sat down. "You look a bit less than rested. What's up?"

Malcolm yawned. "Good Morning," he said with less enthusiasm than usual. "Had to get up a couple of times last night. Couldn't get back to sleep after that."

"Well what was it?" Trip asked, not willing to let the subject go. Malcolm looked around to see if anyone else was in earshot. Only a skeleton crew was still on board.

"The Captain," he finally said.

"Again!" Trip replied.

"Yes, nightmares" the brit answered… "_again_."

Trip shook his head. "What did Phlox have to say?"

"Same as before. Hypo to relax; come talk to me about it, so forth and so on," Malcolm said.

Trip shook his head again. "It's a wonder we're not all screwed up in the head," Trip replied. "After everything we've been through!" Then they ate silently for a few minutes.

"So," Malcolm finally said, "how are things with _Ms. Right?_"

Trip looked around this time. Then he sighed deeply and sipped his coffee. "Still friggin' _friends with benefits_," he stated as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I thought you agreed with the arrangement," Malcolm replied.

"I did, but what choice did I have? That's all that was on the table at the time."

"Sounds lovely to me," Malcolm grinned.

"Malcolm, c'mon. She's going back to Vulcan in a few days, I might not ever see her again. What am I gonna do?"

"You could always tell her the truth," Malcom said. "Tell her how you feel about her."

"I can't do that," Trip said frowning. "What if she shoots me down with her Vulcan logic or something? I'm telling you Mal I couldn't handle her rejection again. Back in the expanse when she was ignoring me and yanking my chain, I thought it was gonna drive me crazy. I couldn't go through that crap again."

"Okay," the brit said. "Then you'll have to take a whole other approach. You're going to have to let her know that "friends with benefits" isn't acceptable any longer."

"It's not?" Trip replied.

"No! Tell her that you want, that you _need_ more."

"That's right, I need more!"

"You tell her that you are putting her on notice, and that she is to make a decision."

"A decision?"

"A decision!" The Englishman emphasized. "Either she is in this thing all the way with you, or she's not. But you're not going to continue waiting around for her to make a commitment."

"You mean give her an ultimatum?"

"Why not? It's not like you have anything to lose. You said she's on her way back to Vulcan and she may not come back to the ship. I'd say the timing is perfect."

"But…but what if she decides to walk away?" the engineer asked softly.

"Then so be it Trip!" Malcolm said a little more forcefully than he intended. "At least you'll know." Trip looked at his friend but didn't respond.

"Better now than after you've poured your heart and soul into this thing any more than you have already. Better to cut your losses now and move on, before you invest too much of yourself into this."

The engineer just sat staring with a small frown on his face. He then pushed his tray away and clasped his hands on the table in front of him, staring at them now.

"Look," Malcolm said, putting his tea cup down. "I'm probably the last person to be giving relationship advice, but at some point you're going to have to be honest and ask yourself some very real questions about her. Either she loves you, or she doesn't mate. Is she _even_ capable of feeling for you what you feel for her? She's a different species Trip…were you ever really expecting it to work?"

Trip still didn't respond. He knew Malcolm was right, who was he kidding.

"Think about it," Reed said, as he slowly rose, took his tray and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **For whatever reason, reviews are not populating. I am getting notice of them but I'm unable to respond to them right now. Nevertheless, Please keep posting and hopefully they will show up once the problem is worked out. Thanks to all for taking the time to read, review, follow and fav! Here's Chapter Three. Enjoy! Bri

* * *

The Next Level

Although they had officially labeled their relationship as "friends with benefits" it was obvious that there was more to it. Trip simply adored her, although he wouldn't admit it, and her open display of jealousy whenever another female showed even the slightest interest in Trip, even innocent, platonic, friendship was met with icy, cold rebuff and unspoken warning. There were rumors circulating all over the ship about the two senior officers as well.

She would be leaving the ship soon so Trip decided to take Malcolm's advice and talk to her before she left. So, a few hours later, after checking in with the repair team, talking to Jon and saying goodbye to some of his people, he headed for her quarters.

=/\=

T'Pol's Quarters. 1100 hours, Space dock, Jupiter Station.

Trip was nervous as he approached her cabin. Malcolm had told him to be bold and in control. To give her an ultimatum because he didn't have anything to lose, and he didn't really. She hadn't made any commitments to him. She didn't belong to him. Sure, they were friends, and for all practical purposes, screwing buddies, that's all. So why did he feel like he had _everything_ to lose?

He sounded the chime and entered her quarters upon invitation. When he saw her standing there, looking beautiful and elegant as ever, packing her lovely clothes, he lost all his _tough_ nerves.

"So, what're you doing for leave?" Trip asked. "You gonna go home see your mother?"

"It has been some time since I visited Vulcan."

"I envy you, having a place to go home to."

"I was under the impression you were spending leave with your family at their new home."

"I'm sure I'll go see my folks, eventually. It's just that, you know I haven't seen 'em since Lizzy… "Trip said lowering his head a bit. "There're still grieving pretty hard, and living' in a new place and all. I don't know. I don't quite feel ready to deal with their grief and mine too. I know I don't want see a bunch of relatives askin' me about our mission and all. I don't know what to do, where to go. I just feel…weird about the whole thing."

"Eventually, you will have to face your parents and your family. But I can understand if you're not ready. Perhaps you should give yourself some time." Trip was surprised. T'Pol was being awfully understanding and she hadn't used the word "logical" either.

He leaned on the wall next to the door with his arms crossed, watching her. "Well, I didn't expect that," he said. "You being all understandin'."

"I can be a _very_ understanding person, if given the chance," she replied and sat down on

her bunk. She gestured for him to come and sit beside her. She was being a bit strange Trip thought.

"I have been meaning to discuss something with you," she began.

"Oh, what's that?"

"The nature of our relationship," she said. Immediately Trip became really nervous. Then she took his hand in hers. He stared at it, then at her.

"Our friendship means a lot to me," she said. "I have never been this close to anyone. Vulcans value relationships with colleagues, but our relationship is something more."

"Sure it is," he smirked, "we're friends with benefits, remember. That was our arrangement and I'm not complain' about it. I really value your friendship too. I would never want to lose it."

He had chickened out. Malcolm would be so disappointed in him. He had told him to force her to make a decision, _"either she was in this thing all the way with him, or she wasn't!"_ But he hadn't been able to make himself to say those words.

"Trip, I've been thinking," T'Pol said looking into his eyes. "It is obvious that what we share is more than mere "friends with benefits". Trip thought his heart skipped a beat as he listened with anticipation. "I have never known anyone like you. I have never been in a _relationship_ with anyone before. You are special to me."

Now Trip thought he might hyperventilate. "Is that what this is, a relationship?"

"I believe it is," she said as if it were no big deal. "And, I think it is time to explore other options."

"Just what are you tryin' to say T'Pol?" he almost gasped.

"I am saying that I think it's time we took our relationship to the "next level" I believe you would call it. I would like to explore the possibility of us becoming more."

"You mean we should officially start dating, become exclusive?"

"For all intents and purposes, we are already doing that," the Vulcan replied. "We have been for several months. I would like to explore becoming…mates."

"Mates?" Trip asked nervously. "Whadda ya mean, mates? Are you askin' me… you askin' me to…

"I am not asking you to marry, no, that would be illogical at this time."

'_Oh great', _he thought, she had to go and ruin the moment with her blasted logic. "Then exactly what are you gettin' at?" he asked puzzled.

"I am asking you to _consider_ the possibility of becoming my betrothed at some date in the future. That we explore the possibility of a future together."

"Oh, you're asking that we change the official status of our relationship to an exclusive, committed one." he smiled. "Before you change your mind. I accept."

"You know we cannot be certain that our species can truly become mates," T'Pol continued. "There are many things to consider and there will be challenges also. I need to learn more about humans. But I have had the opportunity to spend a significant amount of time among you. You have not had such an opportunity. You need to learn more about Vulcan culture, our history and lifestyle. That is why I would like for you to accompany me to Vulcan, see my world, my home…meet my mother."

Trip was elated. He wanted to pick her up and spin her around, to jump up and down and yell. But he remained composed.

"Well," he said "T'Pol of Vulcan, you are full of surprises today. Wonderful, exciting, surprises! Of course, I will go with you to Vulcan. Wild horses couldn't keep me away!" Then he leaned over and kissed her.

She held the side of his face in her hand and deepened the kiss. He then pulled her close to him and held her for a few moments, then he stroked the tip of one of her ears gently. She then took his hands and kissed his fingers softly. As she did so, he planted multiple soft little kisses all over her face and then her neck.

Now the kisses he planted on her neck were harder. She ran her hands under the casual blue short sleeved shirt he was wearing. He countered by running his hands under the silky, loose fitting top she was wearing. They were slow and deliberate removing one another's clothes. After all this wasn't just _screwing. _This was definitely something more.

Later, she lay in his arms with one hand on his bare chest. The other intertwined with his fingers. He used his free hand to stroke her hair as he silently whispered something to her.

"Hey darlin'," he whispered, thinking she was asleep. "You've made me the happiest man alive today, ya know that. You're the best thing that ever happened to me… I love you."

'_I love you,' _she mouthed back, daring not to tell him out loud. After all, wasn't love an emotion? Of course it was, but here she was, _feeling…_ _love_, for a human no less. Surely this had to be what love felt like, because it was unlike anything else she had ever experienced or felt. All she knew was, she wanted him, and she was not willing to share him with anyone else. She could kill for this man…she would die for him. He made her _feel,_ and she liked it. Most of the time he caused her to have to meditate more than usual, more than she had ever needed to before. He had the ability to cause her control to slip and that was dangerous for a Vulcan. But she couldn't help herself. She would risk it, if it meant being with him.

=/\=

Three Days Later. Vulcan.

It was a major step forward when T'Pol revealed that she wanted to explore taking their relationship to another level. Words could not describe what Trip felt when T'Pol had invited him home to meet her mother. They planned to stay a week on Vulcan, a week with Trip's parents back on Earth, then disappear somewhere, alone, for the rest of their leave. Things however, did not go as planned.

On their visit to Vulcan T'Pol learned that her mother had been falsely accused of misconduct and had lost her job and status in the community, forced to resign and disgraced because of her. The High Command was unhappy with what had happened with Enterprise at P'Jem as well as T'Pol's decision to remain on Enterprise and enter the Expanse.

T'Pol had also been betrothed to a man named Koss since childhood, but had chosen to remain on Enterprise three years ago rather than to return to Vulcan to get married as she was expected to. She had deeply offended the family of her future husband. Incidentally, Trip had played a role in her decision to not leave the ship to get married. He was mortified when she told him that she had decided to marry the man she had been engaged to but rejected three years ago. Doing so would restore her mother's career and status as well as her own honor in the Vulcan community.

Trip pleaded with T'Pol not to go through with the marriage. He openly confessed his love for her and begged her to return to Enterprise with him on the first shuttle out the next morning. She refused so he decided that he would not, could not remain there and watch the woman he loved marry someone else.

They had been on an excursion to the fire plains. It was a safe place to talk. It's where she had told him that she was going to marry Koss. Trip left her standing alone at the mouth of one of the caves. She had lingered there, meditating and thinking, trying desperately to think of a way to make Trip understand and to give him some time to cool off. She knew speaking to him when he was like this was useless. She had to make him understand that it would be a marriage in name only. They could still be…friends…with benefits, at least until she could figure out how to get out of this mess.

By the time she had made it back to her mother's home, he had packed and left. After an argument with her mother, she found him later in a room at the Earth Embassy. She stood outside the door and took a deep breath then pressed the chime. He did not answer. She pressed it again, still no answer. After the third, fourth and fifth time, the door slowly cracked open.

"What are you doing here?" he asked standing in the doorway.

"I wanted to talk to you." T'Pol replied.

"There's nothing left to talk about."

"Trip, please. Let me in." He stood there watching her for a few moments. When he realized she was not going to leave, he blew out a long sigh then opened the door all the way, stepped aside and let her in.

"You did not have to leave," T'Pol began. "My mother did not mind you staying at her home."

"T'Pol!" the frustrated and angry man replied. "I wasn't gonna hang around like some pathetic, idiot, third wheel, and watch you make the biggest mistake of your life! I wasn't gonna watch you marry that guy!"

"Trip, please listen," she said moving over closer to him and touching his arm. He jerked away. She closed her eyes for a moment. "It will be a marriage in name only… a-a marriage of convenience. We can still…"

"Still what?" he asked incredulously.

"Still be friends…with benefits," she almost whispered.

Trip threw his head back and laughed. "You know, you beat all I've ever seen lady!" he said. "First you bring me home to meet your mom because you say you wanna take our relationship to the next level. Then you get me here and tell me that you're gonna marry another man! Then you have the nerve to come in here and tell me, _'yeah, I'm gettin' married, but we can still fuck around!'_ Tell you what, why don't you just get the hell out of here T'Pol!" he said and walked toward the door and opened it as he gestured for her to leave.

"I am sorry I have offended you," she said shakily, then quickly walked toward the door. She stopped just before walking out of it. She looked at Trip who was looking at the floor. She moved past him, reached for the door control and closed it.

"No," she said, "I will not leave."

"Alright, fine! Stay, I'll leave," he snapped. He then went to open the door again.

"Trip, please wait," T'Pol pleaded. But he had walked out of the door and started down the hallway. She knew she had to do something, he was leaving and she just couldn't leave things like this.

"I- I won't go through with it!" she finally yelled at his back. Trip stopped dead in his tracks, then slowly turned to face her.

"What did you say?" he asked with trepidation, afraid that what he thought he had just heard was only wishful thinking.

"I said… I will not go through with the wedding."

"You'll call it off?" he asked. "You're not gonna marry him?"

"Yes, I will call it off. I will not marry him." Trip hurried back into the room and closed the door. He pulled her close to him. "I do not wish to be with anyone else," she said as she gazed into his eyes. "Only you."

"I love you," Trip said. "I love you and I couldn't bear it if you married someone else."

"I will return to my mother's house and tell her of my decision. Then I will tell Koss."

"You don't have to tell them anything. Just leave with me on the first transport off this rock in the morning darlin'. If I could take you away right now I would. I don't won't to lose you."

"It is bad enough that I have chosen not to go through with the ceremony," she explained. "It will cause both Koss' family and mine's much embarrassment and dishonor. At least allow me the opportunity to tell them face to face."

Trip hung his head. "Okay. But then you'll meet me at 0700 at the transport station so we can get the hell out of here?"

"Yes, yes my Ashayam. I will be there." Trip pulled her closer to him and kissed her on top of her head several times.

"I love you so much it hurts," he said.

"I am sorry," T'Pol replied. "I did not wish to cause you any further pain." Trip laughed, then kissed her deeply.

They practically ripped one another's clothes off. He caressed her ears. She nibbled at his neck. Their lovemaking had never been so passionate and intense. The thought of losing one another, of never being like this again had released something in them that was almost primal. After the third time, they finally collapsed in a heap, entangled with one another, and they stayed that way until sleep claimed them.

=/\=

The next morning, she didn't meet him at the transport as promised. He had waited until the very last moment. He didn't even catch the transport. He called her several times on her communicator but hadn't reached her. It wasn't until he finally got his nerve up and called her mother's house from the embassy that he learned the truth. Much to Trip's horror, T'Pol was marrying Koss after all.

He didn't know what had happened between the last time he'd seen her, sleeping in his arms last night, until when he had woken up that morning, alone. But apparently, she had changed her mind again. Perhaps, she had never intended to call the wedding off in the first place. Perhaps she had just come to him last night for a goodbye roll in the hay. It was just like old times. She had used him, hurt him, then tossed him aside. Trip was devastated and he finally saw T'Pol for what she really was, a cold-hearted, unfeeling, heart-trampling, Vulcan witch and he hated her. He came back to Enterprise and immediately accepted a transfer to another ship, the Columbia.

=/\=

Trip's Quarters, Enterprise.

"I can't believe you're doing this," Malcolm said. "You're just gonna up and leave, just like that."

"I can't stay Mal," I just can't," Trip said as he continued packing. "I never want to see that woman again."

"Trip why don't you talk to her one last time. It doesn't sound like she wanted to marry this bloke. You have no idea what happened once she got back to her mother's house. I'm sure she was pressured, maybe even forced into marrying him."

"C'mon Mal," Trip replied turning to face his friend. "No one forces T'Pol to do anything she doesn't want to do, you know that."

"But Vulcan rules and culture can be quite stringent from what I'm told. And family pressures can be really overwhelming, believe me I know."

"No, Mal, she made her choice, now I've got to make mine. And what I need right now is a clean break, a fresh start, to just keep it moving."

"What did the Captain have to say?" Malcolm asked. "Didn't he try to talk you out of it?"

"Yeah, but he didn't try very hard," Trip said. "I think he's still guilt tripping when it comes to me Mal. Jon's probably secretly glad I'm leaving, that way he doesn't have to look at me and be reminded of the whole Sim thing all the time. So, you see, it's better for everybody concerned."

Malcolm just looked at the floor. "Oh well then, I guess that's that," he finally said. He then walked over to the bunk where Trip was packing his things and slapped him on the back. "For what it's worth, I'm going to miss you mate."

"I'm gonna miss you too Mal. But we'll stay in touch." Then they shook hands. But Trip grabbed his friend and pulled him into a hug and slapped him on the back as he did so. "You've been a good friend. A lousy relationship adviser, but a good friend."

Malcolm laughed. "C'mon Mr. Tuckah, let me help you get your bags to your shuttle. That's the least I can do, since I'm such a lousy counselor and all. And here I was all ready to hang out my shingle."

"Nope, better keep your day job!" Trip said, as he yanked up a couple of his bags and threw them at his friend, grabbed up a couple of more, flung them over his shoulder, then exited the room. A few seconds later he was back. He'd told Malcolm he'd forgotten something, but actually, he just wanted a few moments alone in his old space to have one last look around. He couldn't believe it was going to end like this, but ending it was. He finally nodded his head, saluted, then dashed out into the hallway. And that was that.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's Possible"

Nine Months Later.

Trip's time on Columbia was tumultuous to say the least. He had overseen the ship getting out of space dock and because of his brilliance, it was able to launch several months ahead of schedule. He was a different CO however than he was on Enterprise. There he had been fun-loving, affable and generally well liked by everyone. On Columbia he was known as aloof and a hard ass.

He had spent almost a year on another ship, and in all that time Trip had not even spoken to T'Pol but he was by no means over her. He thought about her constantly, dreamt about her and even sometimes thought he could hear her voice in his head. He had weird day dreams about her, too. What was troublesome to him however, was that he had a constant headache and a burning sensation at the base of his skull. He had seen the doctor on numerous occasions but had gotten little to no relief. It never occurred to him that any of this could be connected in any way other than T'Pol still had the ability to stress him out after all this time and having no contact with her.

In addition, Trip just seemed to be mad at the world a lot of the time. Captain Hernandez had started to wonder if she'd made a mistake bringing him aboard when her staff failed to jell with the engineer. She wanted to talk to Jon about it, but he was still mad at her for stealing Trip in the first place. Then, when a life and death situation occurred aboard his ship, Captain Archer had sent out a distress call to Columbia, Hernandez had no choice but to talk to him. It seemed Enterprise was facing a warp core breach and no one, including Enterprise's current Chief Engineer, could stop it. But Archer knew someone who could.

Columbia quickly came to Enterprise's aid. Unable to slow down without blowing up, or to use the transporter, Trip and Malcolm Reed performed a death-defying feat to get Trip aboard Enterprise while traveling at warp speed. Once aboard, Trip performed an impossible and literally unheard-of maneuver to prevent the warp core breach- a cold stop and restart. It worked and the ship was saved as well as the entire crew. However, the engines had been damaged so badly that Trip was asked to stay aboard Enterprise for a few days to oversee the repairs.

Captain Hernandez having been concerned about Trip's demeanor and attitude since he had been aboard Columbia, took this opportunity to address it with Jon.

=/\=

"Sure, Trip can stay on Enterprise a few days to oversee the repairs," Erika said to Jon. "As a matter of fact, I have a favor to ask of you too."

"A favor?" he replied. "Well, I'm in your debt so what can I do for you?"

"I'd like your doctor to uh, maybe take a look at Trip while he's there."

"Oh?" Jon said. "Why is that?"

"He's not quite himself…" Erica said. There was silence for a few moments. "Look Jon, I'm gonna be straight with you. It's not really working out with Trip. I mean, as much as I like him, and as good he is…there seems to be a problem. I think he needs to work through some unresolved issues or something. So, I think he may need to spend some time with Phlox."

"What are you trying to say Erica?"

"I think Trip needs to work out some old stuff, some of his…_demons_, if you will."

"Demons!"

"C'mon Jon," Erica stumbled with the right thing to say. "I think Trip may still have a hangover from the expanse…or something. I don't know, he's just…not as easygoing as I thought he was; he doesn't get along with people as well as I thought he did either. He's angry, a lot and been a real hard-ass. I think he's got a lot of baggage and it's showing."

"Yeah? Well don't we all!" Jon snapped a little more forcefully than he had meant to. But the expanse was a touchy subject. "The expanse was hell on all of us! Quite a few of us still carry battle scars from that mission. Trip's just not always good at hiding his as the rest of us are."

"Well, that said, I'm just asking that since Dr. Phlox knows him so well and Trip's comfortable with him, that he works with him a while, a few weeks maybe; a couple of months if that's what it takes. And, after he's better he comes back to Columbia."

"Erica, you are so full of it!" Jon said. "So, you want us to patch Trip up, help him deal with his _demons_, then send him back to you all fixed up like new with a bright red bow on his head so you can benefit from his expertise. You want his genius, but not his garbage. No deal!"

Erica blew out a long sigh. "Do you have an alternative proposal, Captain?"

"I'll trade you Lt. Commander Kelby, and one of the new crewman positions I'm slotted for, for Trip, demons and all."

"I'm not sure that's a fair trade. Kelby can't hold a candle to Trip when he's at his best."

"But right now, Trip's not at his best, is he? And he needs help getting back to himself. I'm his friend Erica, give him back to me so I can help him. Plus, you're getting one of my new crewman positions."

Erica was quiet for a moment. "You drive a hard bargain Captain," she said reluctantly. "You take any transport missions I get to Andoria for the next six months and you got yourself a deal."

"Your transport missions?"

"You know how I hate that frozen wasteland," Erica replied. "If I never see that place again it'll be too soon."

Archer laughed. "Actually, Andoria is quite beautiful in my opinion, and I don't mind it at all. Consider it done."

"Great," Erica said. "Now that that's settled, dinner on my ship or yours?"

"Yours," he said.

"Bring something to sleep in," she grinned.

"Do I really need to?"

"Not really," she replied, "Hernandez out."

=/\=

Enterprise.

Three Months Later.

After Trip transferred back to Enterprise, he and T'Pol started up again. She was divorced and had actually contacted Trip months ago to tell him. She had wanted to start over, but Trip had been hesitant. Being on two different ships complicated things as well. But when Archer asked him to come back, he'd gladly accepted.

Now things were going pretty well. He and T'Pol were taking things slowly, but they were going well nevertheless. There had been no real emergencies for months, no battles with another hostile alien species, just peaceful exploration as was intended all along.

Now they were home for the first interspecies conference on earth, a really big deal. Something strange had happened at the conference however. A woman had thrust a vile with hair in it into T'Pol's hand while there before collapsing and telling her that "_they_" were going to kill "_her_." No one had any idea who she was or what this woman was referring to.

T'Pol was able to determine that the woman was Susan Khouri. But it was Phlox who would drop the bomb shell.

Later that day the senior staff had been summoned to sick bay and was listening to Dr. Phlox explain that he had a good idea who the hair belonged to. _"Based upon all of the genetic testing available, this child is the offspring of_ _Commander Tucker and Commander T'Pol_", Phlox had said.

Trip heard what the doctor had said, but it hadn't quite registered yet. "Commander Tucker," Trip had heard, "and Commander T'Pol." Then it finally hit him, Phlox had just said that _he_, that _they_… _he and T'Pol_… had a baby! Finally, Trip raised his head as he saw Captain Archer turn around in shock and confusion and look at him first, then at T'Pol. Malcolm never turned around, he just looked at the floor. After all, Malcom knew. Then Trip turned and looked at T'Pol, with a shocked and disturbed look on his face.

"Trip, T'Pol?" Captain Archer started, asking the question Trip was thinking. "What is he talking about? Is this even _possible_?" Trip opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He had no answers.

T'Pol took a couple of steps back, looking totally cornered, all eyes on her. "Captain," she started. "Doctor… that's …that's…

"N-not… p-possible," Trip said, with a stutter. "Tell me it's not possible, T'Pol," he demanded, his eyes fixed on her with a puzzled look on his face.

But T'Pol could not find her voice. Instead she responded in a way totally out of character for her. "It is …_not_ possible…I tell you! It is completely illogical." But, everyone in the room could tell by her reaction that perhaps it was in fact possible.

"You had a _baby_?" Trip asked as he moved toward T'Pol. "A baby! When? Where?"

Dr. Phlox, Captain Archer and Malcolm all stood there like stone, watching this exchange, not believing their ears.

"This is a joke right doc?" Trip snapped. "A, a mistake or somethin'!"

"Commander I assure you I would never joke about such a thing," Phlox replied, "And there is no mistake. DNA does not lie."

The engineer quickly turned his gaze back upon the Vulcan in the room.

"Trip, I can explain," T'Pol started, her voice heavy. "I can explain."

"Explain? You can explain what?" Trip asked raising his voice. "That you had a baby and you never told me! How the hell did you pull that off without anybody knowin' about it!"

"If you would just give me a moment," T'Pol replied, trying to gather herself in the face of an enraged chief engineer. "I just need to sit for a moment… I.. just need …a m-moment… There is a logical explanation for this…there has to be."

"A logical explanation!" Trip yelled. "There's nothing logical about any of this! Either you had a baby or you didn't!"

"The two of you in my ready room, now!" Archer finally jumped in as he could see that Trip was about ready to completely lose it.

Phlox hurried over to give T'Pol a drink of water and offered her a hypo-spray. She took the water, but refused the hypo-spray. "Captain," she finally managed to get out. "There is no need to speak outside the doctor's presence," she said softly. "He knows about Commander Tucker and I."

"So does Malcolm!" Trip blurted out, causing Phlox and T'Pol to look up simultaneously.

"Alright," Captain Archer said, clearly upset about what he was hearing. "Since everyone here seems to be privy to some vital information but me, please would someone care to enlighten me?"

Trip just shook his head in disbelief, saying nothing as he paced around in small circles.

"Commander Tucker and I have, we have been involved… intimately," she said. Trip looked at the floor as he finally stopped his pacing then leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I see," Archer said. "For how long?"

"It started when we were in the expanse," T'Pol explained.

"And it ended when you got married," Trip blurted out angrily.

"That is correct," she replied, still attempting to regain her control. "After my marriage ended, Commander Tucker and I… we recently, resumed our relationship."

"That doesn't explain you having a baby!" Trip shouted. "Doc said the baby was six months old. T-that, it was half-human, half-Vulcan!"

"I was pregnant when I married Koss," she answered firmly.

"And you married him anyway!" the angry man said in disbelief.

"I didn't know at the time," she returned, this time rising from the chair where she was sitting to face Trip.

"Oh, well, hell! That explains everything," he replied sacrcastically, then looked up at the ceiling and laughed incredulously. "After the hell you put me through! After everything that's happened between us! Now this! What were you tryna do T'Pol, pass my kid off as Koss'? How could you?"

"Trip!" Archer shouted. "Calm down!"

"I don't wanna calm down! I want the truth!"

"Commander, please," T'Pol said as she moved toward Trip and reached a hand toward him.

"Don't touch me!" he shouted moving away as he swatted at her hand.

"Alright, that's enough Commander! We need to get to the bottom of this!" Archer said in a raised and firm voice getting between his two officers. Trip threw his hands up in exasperation and T'Pol turned back toward the captain and Dr. Phlox.

"About a month after returning from my visit to Vulcan last year, I began feeling ill. After a few days of consistent dizziness, regurgitating, headaches and other symptoms, I went to see Dr. Phlox. I was certain I was having complications from the Panar Syndrome, which proved to be a correct analysis. But, both the doctor and myself were astonished to learn that I was also about three months pregnant. Since the gestation process for Vulcans is close to 12 Earth months, my condition was not easily detectible. This was even more troubling considering the fact that Vulcan women only ovulate every seven years, and my time had not yet come. However, there were some other extenuating circumstances to consider. I was apparently experiencing some residual effects of one or more of these, circumstances, if you will, when Commander Tucker and I were intimate. I became pregnant, but I never even considered that possibility until my visit to the doctor."

"So, doc, you knew? You knew and you didn't think "_I" _needed to know?" Trip asked the doctor with hurt in his tone.

"Commander," Phlox began. "I urged Commander T'Pol to tell you right away. As a matter of fact, I continued to urge her to tell you many times. However, based upon her situation at the time, she thought it unwise, and it was not my place to go against my patient's wishes. I could not violate her right to confidentiality."

"What about my rights? My right to know something this big was going on?" Trip demanded. "Or, I guess I didn't count, wasn't important enough to…"

"What would you have had me do Commander?" T'Pol asked pointedly, her control slipping away by the minute, evidenced by her clenched jaw and balled fists. "I was sick, I was trapped in a marriage to a man I could not bond with, nor wanted to be with, and I was dealing with an unprecedented situation. You had left for Columbia…without…without a word."

"And just what was I supposed to say at that point T'Pol?" the distraught man shot back. "I poured my heart out to you when we were on Vulcan. I made a complete fool of myself and you left me hanging the next morning, then ran right on off to marry another guy- with my child inside of you!"

"You knew it was a marriage in name only. And I didn't know I was pregnant. If I had known, perhaps I would have made a different choice. Nevertheless, even if I had told you it wouldn't have made a difference. From everything I knew at the time, from everything I believed, the child would not survive."

"That is correct," Phlox interjected. "Although human and Vulcan physiology isn't all that dissimilar, producing a child together should not be medically possible without a great deal of assistance."

"What do you mean by that?" Archer asked.

"From all of the test I conducted, the DNA was incompatible unless some very specific treatments were administered in the early stages of the pregnancy, and still with no guarantees. But without intervention, the fetus would not be viable. T'Pol was already three months pregnant and it was very possibly already too late, coupled with the fact that she was ill."

"So that's why you took that three months leave of absence?" Archer replied. "I thought it had to do with the death of your mother. I thought you needed some time to mourn. I can't believe you went through all of that by yourself, without telling anyone."

"I went to seek the treatment the doctor was speaking of," T'Pol stated. "I had no idea as to whether the pregnancy was sustainable, and I saw no reason to involve anyone else under the circumstances. I saw a colleague of Phlox's on earth that he thought may be able to help. I was told that my suspicions were correct. This was not a viable pregnancy. While there, I was told that the fetus had died in utero and I had no reason to believe that this was untrue," T'Pol stated.

"But the child apparently did survive," Archer replied.

"There was no way I could have ever known that!" T'Pol said, her voice unsteady now. "And Susan Khouri said that they were going to kill her. She said, don't let them do it." T'Pol took a couple of steps backwards, and settled against the bio-bed, her head down, arms folded.

"But, why would they lie to you?" Phlox asked. "Why would they remove the fetus from you without your knowledge and consent and steal your child?"

"First of all, who are _they?_" said Malcolm, who had been silent throughout this whole exchange. "And why is this coming to light now? There's got to me more to this."

"That's what we're going to find out," Archer said. "I don't think it's any coincidence that this is happening now. Something doesn't smell right, none of it. Malcolm," he said turning. "I'm going to contact Nathan Samuels and find out about Susan Khouri and anything else Starfleet's investigation may have turned up. But we're going to conduct a little investigation of our own. This involves my two senior officers and right smack in the middle of the first interspecies conference on earth, so do what you need to do Malcolm. Talk to whomever you need to talk to- even if it means contacting an old friend."

"I'm on it Captain," Malcolm said as he turned to leave sick bay.

"Phlox, contact your colleague on earth who treated T'Pol when she was pregnant. Try to find out what happened at the time of the child's birth," the Captain continued. Then he turned his attention squarely on his two senior officers. "Later on, I will deal with the two of you," he said looking between T'Pol and Trip. "But right now, I think we've all had about enough shock and excitement for one day as we can handle." Suddenly, there was a voice from the comm.

"Captain," Hoshi called out. He walked over to the wall to respond.

"Archer here."

"We're getting a message from earth and it's quite disturbing," the linguist began. "I think you ought to see this."

"I'll be right there," he said. T'Pol and Trip followed close behind.

What they saw on the bridge's screen unsettled them all. It was a man calling himself John Frederick Paxton. He was essentially declaring war on all aliens on earth, if they did not leave the system within the next 72 hours. He was a raging xenophobe who was conveying to all that would listen that earth was endangered by the alien presence. Then he flashed upon the screen, a baby, with human features, and small pointed ears. He declared that this was no ordinary, innocent child, but a Vulcan-Human hybrid, that posed a threat to the continued dominance of humans on its own planet. Everyone was stunned.

T'Pol stood on the bridge looking wide-eyed and frozen. Trip looked confused, and horrified. Travis and Hoshi could almost see T'Pol trembling. They didn't know what to make of the scene unfolding.

Archer turned to T'Pol and Trip. "Do you two think the two of you can stop arguing and accusing one another long enough to find your child?" Trip and T'Pol both nodded their heads in agreement, too shocked and shaken to do much else. There was a baby out there, and it was theirs.


	5. Chapter 5

Elizabeth

Over the next three days, the entire unpleasant incident completely unfolded. Malcolm learned that John Frederick Paxton was the leader of a terrorist organization called Terra Prime. They wanted to stop all human contact with aliens on earth. They were ruthless and they were killers. Paxton had threatened to blow up Star Fleet headquarters if the aliens on earth did not leave the system as he had demanded. Thousands in San Francisco could be killed.

Travis was able to get Trip and T'Pol into the Orpheus mining colony on the moon, where they believed Susan Khouri had been working for a year. It wasn't long however before they were captured by Paxton and his men. Captain Archer, Malcolm, Travis and Doctor Phlox, mounted a rescue attempt. After a fight, and several people were wounded by phase pistol fire, including Trip, the child was discovered and the crew was saved. Paxton was not able to successfully launch his attack on Starfleet and San Francisco. But it still wasn't over, it was in fact just beginning.

The little girl with blue eyes and tiny pointed ears, fought for her life for four weeks. Then, she succumbed. Phlox tried everything he could, but there was no medical treatment known that could save the Vulcan-Human hybrid. But, in the time that they had her, the little girl named Elizabeth, after Trip's sister, had stolen the hearts of everyone who had a chance to spend time with her. Phlox's medical team was heart-broken and grief stricken when the child died. The senior staff was equally affected. Besides the parents, Captain Archer, Malcom, Hoshi and Travis had spent more time with her than anyone.

Trip and T'Pol had spent almost every minute that they were not on duty in sick bay, sitting with, holding, playing with and praying for their child. At times, she seemed to be getting better, even smiling and cooing.

The parents had totally bonded with their child. The psychic bond that they shared was amazing. When T'Pol had first explained the _"bond_" to Trip, he didn't know how to feel, relieved or really worried. All those months on Columbia, feeling sick, like he was losing his mind, all had to do with this bond he shared with T'Pol. But when they discovered Elizabeth, he was grateful. They could feel her in their minds, hear her heart beat, and her distress. But she did really well when one of them was present, and most of the time one of them was there. They took turns to ensure that she would never be alone.

T'Pol held Elizabeth, gazing into her eyes as Trip hovered over them both. They watched her take her last few breaths. When it was done, T'Pol continued to hold her until she could no longer bear it. She handed the child to Trip and just stood there with him, leaning against him, eyes closed, body trembling. Trip held Elizabeth closely. He didn't know what to do, so he just stood there, breathing deeply, red faced with his eyes glazed over. Phlox, Captain Archer and Malcolm watched from across the room, giving the parents a few moments to grieve alone. Hoshi had just entered sick bay, hoping to visit, not knowing what had just happened.

There was a dead silence in the room. Everyone just stood frozen in place like stone as Trip held onto Elizabeth in the middle of sick bay. It was so silent; a disturbing stillness that let everyone know that something terribly wrong had happened and no one knew what to do about it. It was a horrific wrong, a blatant sin, perpetrated against a helpless child. Her life had been tampered with and manipulated for this moment, and used ultimately for a sinister purpose and everyone knew it. Suddenly Hoshi put her hand to her mouth and made a run for the door. Malcolm followed after her.

"No!" Trip shouted. "No, no, no! Phlox, help her! You can revive her, right!"

"Commander," she's gone, T'Pol said softly.

"No," Trip said shaking his head. "She can't be gone! I-I don't believe it! I know there's something you can do doc! Let's get her in the imaging chamber. Give her, g-give her some oxygen! We have to try!"

"Trip," Archer began. "There's nothing else to be done for Elizabeth. We knew this moment was coming, and I know it's hard…"

"No! She can be saved," the distraught man insisted. "Please save her Phlox, won't you try! Somebody, anybody, please help me! Help her!"

"Trip, you are only making this harder," T'Pol said in a shaky voice. "You have to let her go."

"I won't," Trip said, red faced and shaking with anger. "I'll never let her go, ever!" He then started for the doors, but Captain Archer stepped in front of him.

"Trip please don't do this," he pleaded with his friend.

"Get out of my way!" the engineer said in an elevated voice and a harried look on his face.

"Phlox, do something!" Archer called out as Trip tried to push past the captain with the child still cradled in his arms.

Malcolm returned just in time to see the scene unfolding. He quickly positioned himself beside Captain Archer to try and keep his friend from leaving sick bay with the dead child.

"You don't want to do this," Malcolm said. "Let the doctor have Elizabeth so he can care for her."

"I can't! I won't!" Trip yelled. C-can't let her go. I'll never see her again if I let her go!"

T'Pol was unable to watch what was happening anymore, but she did not have the strength of will to intervene. She simply retreated to the far corner of the room and leaned up against the wall, not speaking.

Dr. Phlox came up behind Trip and quickly injected a hypo spray in his neck. He turned to object and as he did so, Captain Archer snatched Elizabeth from his arms. And for a moment, Trip stood in one place, holding his neck. No one was sure what he would do next.

"Goddmaned Paxton! Fuckin' Terra Prime!" Trip then shouted and banged his fist into the wall. "I'll kill 'em! I'll kill 'em all!" With that he made a dash for the doors, but Phlox and Malcolm blocked him as he struggled against them. Suddenly, he lost his legs and started to fall to the floor, partly from the rapid effect of the hypo, partly from sheer exhaustion and brokenness. Malcolm and Phlox caught him before he did so. In a few moments he was unconscious. They lifted him onto a bio bed, and Phlox hurried over to T'Pol.

"Commander, you must go and meditate immediately, then get to bed right after. I will give you something to help you sleep. You and Commander Tucker are relieved of duty as of this moment. Lt. Reed, would you please escort T'Pol to her quarters and ensure that she gets settled in?"

"Certainly doctor," Malcolm said and hurried over to where T'Pol stood, arms folded, just staring.

"Captain, I will take Elizabeth now," Phlox said. But Jon didn't respond.

"Captain, did you hear me?" Phlox asked. "I will take Elizabeth now."

"Huh…what?" Archer said with a slight frown on his red face.

"You may let go now Captain," Phlox replied as Jon stepped backwards and looked down at the dead baby.

"It's alright Captain," Phlox said and gently removed the baby from the 's arms who was clinging onto the child without even realizing it. "Are you alright?" Phlox asked.

Archer straightened himself and struggled for a few moments trying to regain his composure. Watching Trip's explosion, T'Pol's helplessness and holding the dead baby in his arms had shaken him. "I'll be fine doc," he finally said. "Just take care of Trip…take care of Elizabeth. Take care of …everybody." He then turned on his heels and dashed out of sick bay.

"Let me walk you to your quarters," Malcolm said to T'Pol. She slightly nodded yes and allowed Malcolm to lead her away. She turned back to look at Trip stirring on the bio-bed as Phlox stood stoically with their child. She closed her eyes for a moment, then left the room.

Trip stirred to consciousness for a few moments and watched as Phlox turned to take Elizabeth away for the last time. "You gonna cut my little girl open Doc?" he asked in a weak voice as Phlox was walking away.

"No Commander," Phlox replied turning slightly to face Trip. "The examination will be non-invasive. I assure you, Elizabeth will be treated with delicacy and respect. I loved her too," he said, his voice becoming unsteady.

"Thank you," Trip said. "Cause… I couldn't bear that," he whispered. Then, he fell back on the bed and darkness claimed him.

=/\=

The memorial for Elizabeth was held at the chapel in Star Fleet headquarters two days later. Neither Trip nor T'Pol knew how they would get through it. But they were there for each other. And, although, this "psychic-bond" was new to Trip, T'Pol had been able to teach him a few things about it over the last several weeks. He was grateful for that because through it, he had been able to truly experience Elizabeth. Now, they used it in an effort to comfort one another.

When he was weak, too broken up to sleep or eat, she reached out to him in his mind and sent comforting thoughts and reassurances that Elizabeth had not suffered and knew she was loved. When T'Pol's control slipped and she felt as if she were coming apart, when she wanted to run, scream or break something, he sent her calming thoughts, that she was not alone, that he was there for her and that Elizabeth was safe and would always be with them. He went to her quarters many nights and just curled up in bed with her, and they lay there wrapped in each other's arms.

The memorial service was private and quiet, thankfully. Only the senior staff attended, along with some of Starfleet's brass, Ambassador Sova, Nathan Samuels and some of the dignitaries from the interspecies embassies on earth. There was lots of security, as Terra Prime members who had slipped under ground, continued to make threats. There were also reporters trying desperately to get a picture, or a comment from the grieving parents. There were also well-wishers, some cried and laid flowers, teddy bears and other gifts outside on the grounds. Others hurdled insults, screamed and yelled and held up protest signs. It was maddening.

Unfortunately, four chairs on the front row of the chapel next to Trip and T'Pol remained empty. Trip glanced over at them several times during the service and hung his head. They belonged to his parents, his brother and his wife. When Trip had revealed that the child that had been displayed on the news was his, and T'Pol's, a Vulcan, Trips' family had a hard time dealing with that fact.

His family was not so concerned that Trip had had a relationship with an alien. They were hurt and confused however that they had had to hear about it on TV. They had mixed emotions about the alien baby, and that they had named her after their dear deceased Elizabeth. They were further disturbed that Starfleet had allowed the news to be leaked. Now, it was all over the airways causing more xenophobia than ever. All Trip's family had wanted after losing Lizzy was privacy, peace and quiet. They had a lot of concerns about Starfleet and what it was doing, and a lot of resentment that Trip had not elected to remain on Earth after the expanse like some of the other crew members of Enterprise had.

His parents and brother elected not to attend the service because they didn't want to be a part of the circus. They explained that once Trip had left Earth and returned to Enterprise, that they would have to continue to live there and deal with the fall out, reporters, xenophobes, prejudice and general ignorance regarding the whole thing. But Trip took it to mean that they just didn't want to have to explain it to family and friends. He had given them some suggestions as to what they could tell their so-called friends, _"tell them to go "fuck themselves!"_ he had said, rather screamed. _"And tell the family they can go directly to West Hell!" _

Trip had cursed his father and argued with his mother. He almost came to blows with his brother and had a huge blow-out with the family. He was disrespectful to everyone and would not allow them time to adjust to this phenomenon nor consider their view point nor feelings about all of it. He acted so uncharacteristically that his mother questioned his sanity. Trip's father had threatened to deck him and demanded that he leave and not return until he could act like their son. He left his parent's home, vowing never to return.

After the memorial, Trip and T'Pol were escorted to a transport vessel with Ambassador Soval for Elizabeth's interment on Vulcan. She was to be buried next to T'Pol's mother. The journey was difficult as Trip felt himself welling up with more and more anger. He was there for T'Pol, holding her hand, walking with her, trying to comfort her. But Trip secretly wondered if things would ever be the same between them. By the time they departed Vulcan for Enterprise, one week later, he had begun to pull away.


	6. Chapter 6

Betrayal

Two Weeks Later. Hoshi's Quarters

Hoshi walked out of the bathroom in her quarters, completely naked. As she started toward her bunk, she suddenly was struck by a vision. She titled her head a bit as if to get a different view. Then she quietly tipped over to her desk and took a large writing booklet out of one of the drawers. She positioned herself at just the right angle and started to sketch her guest as he slept on his stomach and face toward the wall, ass completely exposed.

She tried to stifle a giggle, but he was a light sleeper and stirred for a moment. She held her breath and was perfectly still. A few moments later she resumed her sketching. Then, just as if he could tell someone was watching him, he woke up and turned to face her.

"What are you doing?" he asked sleepily as Hoshi quickly tried to conceal something from him.

"Oh, nothing!" she said and hurriedly made a dash for her desk drawer.

"Oh no you don't," he said as he leaped from the bunk and approached her in all his naked glory.

"Let me see that," he insisted and wrestled with her for a few seconds, finally taking the book away from her.

"Malcolm Reed!" she protested. "You give that back!" the linguist demanded. "That's my personal property!"

"And this is my personal arse," he said. He looked at the sketch, turning it sideways and all around as Hoshi continued to grab at it and try to take it away from him. "And quite an arse it is!" the brit grinned wickedly.

"Malcolm! C'mon."

He looked at her sideways. "Seriously, Hoshi. I am really surprised you would sketch me in the buff without my permission."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any harm," she pleaded. Besides nobody can see your face and I would never show that to anyone. You know I would never do anything to embarrass you or hurt you… Okay, I'll shred it."

But he didn't return the booklet to her right away. Instead he thumbed through it looking at the other sketches there. It was various crew members in different poses. But most of them were of him, in the mess hall, the armory, on the bridge.

"I had no idea you were an artist," Malcolm stated. "These are actually quite good."

"I'm hardly an artist, just an amateur. It's a hobby. I've got all these poses of you, and when I saw you sleeping like that, I couldn't resist sketching that beautiful, sexy, muscular ass of yours!" she explained. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I'll get rid of it."

Malcolm put the sketches down and pulled Hoshi close to him as he walked backwards, then sat on the bunk. She stood facing him as he wrapped his arms around her butt. "You really think my arse is beautiful?" he asked teasingly.

"The most beautiful ass I've ever seen," she said in a low, breathy voice as she looked down at him.

"And that's the most beautiful face I've ever seen Ensign Sato," he replied.

Then she bent down and kissed him, slowly and deliberately. With that, he stood up and lifted her as she cradled her legs around him. He pushed her against the nearby wall and they were lost in the raw passion of one another, forgetting about the drawing, for now anyway.

Later.

Malcolm lay on the bunk with his head propped against his hand. Hoshi faced him in the same posture.

"How is Trip doing, really?" she asked. "He seems so out of it. He doesn't say much, and I haven't seen him so much as crack a smile since Elizabeth died.

"I don't think he's in a very good place," the brit answered. "He says he's fine, and he'll talk about work, but not much else."

"At least he'll talk to you. He seems to avoid everyone else. I know the Captain is worried about him, and T'Pol."

"Speaking of T'Pol, how is _she_ doing? I know she talks to you occasionally."

"She's worse than Trip," the linguist replied. "She tries to pretend as if nothing has changed. But I can tell she's not doing too well either. I feel so helpless. I mean, they're our friends and I have no clue how to help them."

"The best thing to do is to give them some space. Let them deal with things in their own way." Then Malcolm sat up and frowned, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What is it?" Hoshi asked, sitting up as well. "What's wrong? There's something you're not telling me, isn't it?"

Malcolm looked at the young woman, then looked away a moment. He sighed deeply. "I'm not at liberty to say anything at the moment, love. But…I've finished my investigation into Terra Prime, _and_, I don't have great news to report."

"Oh no, you found out something that's gonna hurt Trip and T'Pol even more, didn't you!"

"Let's just say, they're going to need their friends more than ever now," Malcolm replied. "But I have to speak to the captain first. He'll have to decide what to do with the information."

=/\=

The Next Day

"Captain, it's just such a disgusting violation," Malcolm began. "Must we tell them? Will it do any good?"

"They have a right to know Malcolm," Archer answered as he sat at his desk in his ready room. "I'd rather they heard it from us, rather than from Starfleet, or heavens knows where else, like a news report."

"And this is certainly news worthy," Malcolm said. "Not only did Paxton steal the Commanders' baby, he had her cloned her to create more babies. Apparently, Paxton's doctors didn't think Elizabeth would survive since she was so ill, and he needed their child to carry out his diabolical plan."

"How many?" Archer asked, not really wanting to know.

"Two, from what we can tell. One died before the gestation period was complete. Another was born alive. They made that one a boy."

"God," Archer said, putting his hand to his head.

"How could they have done this?" Archer asked rising. "They couldn't have done it, not without…"

"Not without the help of someone aboard Enterprise, sir," the brit stated emphatically. "Someone had to be purposefully spying on the Commanders. We know that Paxton had someone planted on the ship, for who knows how long. They must have been ordered to report anything they could potentially use to further their cause."

"And a romantic relationship between a human and a Vulcan would certainly fit the bill," the captain said. "But they were being pretty discreet. I mean, I never saw anything between them and I interacted with them every day."

"I'm sure this person heard the rumors," Malcolm replied. "A lot of people were talking about them. It started when T'Pol began the neuro-pressure treatment on the Commander…to help him with his insomnia. From there, the rumors took on a life of their own."

"So, this crewperson watched them and concluded it was true no doubt."

"My theory is that once the spy reported the relationship, they were ordered to find out everything they could about the Commanders, including what was in their medical profile. This person knew about T'Pol's pregnancy and Trip didn't even know."

"So, I'm sure when T'Pol showed up on Earth, it was a gift to those bastards. She was there for medical treatment and they stole her baby!" the captain spat, rising abruptly. He was furious. He paced around the room doing all he could to keep from exploding. "I'm assuming we don't know who this person is yet?"

"No sir, not yet," Malcolm replied. "But I'll find out who the traitor is Captain, if it's the last thing I ever do."

"Use all the resources you need Malcolm," Archer ordered. "I want this person found, no matter what, I want them found!"

"One last thing Captain," the brit said.

Archer looked at him warily. "Go ahead," he replied.

"It's the last one that was created, the little boy...he would have been about two weeks old when Elizabeth was discovered. There is absolutely no indication as to what happened to him."

Archer leaned forward on his desk, red faced and frowning. "No evidence of what happened to him? Nothing?"

"He simply disappeared, without a trace."

"You mean to tell me there could be another child out there somewhere!"

"Unlikely sir. None of the people we interrogated knew anything about the child. One of them even said that once Paxton was arrested, that everything in the medical lab was destroyed. All data, specimens, embryos…everything."

"But no one could say for sure what happened to the little boy?" Archer asked in a hard tone.

"No sir," the brit replied. "Not specifically."

Jon gasped. "Malcolm, I want to know what happened to that baby! There's got to be something to go on! It has to be!"

"Captain I assure you, there is nothing."

"Well dig a little deeper Lieutenant. I don't care how you do it, or who you use, but we have got to find out what happened to that baby. The thought of another one being out there somewhere… may just send the parents on over the cliff, a place where they're already hanging on by a very weak thread."

"Aye Captain." Malcolm said as he left Archer with his thoughts.

=/\=

A Few Days Later.

Ensign Randy Masaro lurked around the corner near T'Pol's quarters. He watched and waited for her shift to end. As predicted, she came directly to her room. He didn't wait for an invitation. As soon as she keyed in her code, he closed in behind her and pushed her through the door. She stumbled, then turned quickly to see the young Ensign standing there with a phase pistol pointing at her.

"What do you want Ensign?" she asked softly, not wanting to provoke him.

"I-I need you to call C-Commander Tucker. T-tell him to come to your quarters, it's an emergency."

"Why?" T'Pol asked.

"Just do it ma'am!" Masaro shouted, hands shaking, voice cracking. T'Pol considered making a move to get the pistol out of his hands, but wasn't sure where the setting was. She hesitated.

"Call him!" Masaro shouted. T'Pol reached over to her comm.

"T'Pol to Commander Tucker," she said flatly.

"Yeah, what is it?" Trip drawled.

"I need your assistance with an urgent matter, in my quarters."

"T'Pol," he said sounding frustrated. "Can't this wait? I'm really busy here and I don't' have time…"

"Commander!" she said, inflecting her voice. "It. Is. An. Emergency."

"Be there in a minute," Trip responded recognizing the urgency in her voice, and feeling her distress in his mind. He threw down his tools, didn't say a word to anyone, he just raced out of engineering so fast that it made many of the crewmen stop and look. He thought about calling Malcolm, but didn't. He even thought about calling Phlox, but all he could manage to do was to get to T'Pol.

The door slid open as soon as he hit the panel. He raced in to find T'Pol standing stoically near her desk. "What is it? What's the matter?" Trip asked out of breath. He followed her eyes into the far corner of the room to find Randy Masaro, one of his engineers, holding a phase pistol on them.

"Randy! What the hell?" Trip started toward Masaro.

"Stop sir," he said. Don't come near me."

"What are you doing?" Trip asked. "What the hell is this!"

"I, I need to tell you something," Masaro said. "And I won't be able to say it but once, so please sit down and listen."

"Ensign," T'Pol interjected.

"Sit down!" Masaro shouted, phase pistol shaking. "I've got this thing set to kill, okay, so please just sit down and listen!"

Trip and T'Pol exchanged glances. Then they both sat on her bed and watched as Masaro moved around to face them.

"Randy, what is this about?" Trip asked again. "I can't believe you're standing there with a phase pistol on us, on _me_. I'm you're CO and I thought we had a relationship."

"Commander, you are the best CO I have ever had. You have been great to work with, y-you've taught me so much."

"Then why…"

"Let me finish!" the younger man said in a raised voice. "I-I have nothing but respect for you sir. You are a credit to Starfleet, at least you were, until, until you… started messing around with her."

"What?" Trip said rising.

"Sit back down Commander, I… really don't want to have to use t-this."

"You don't have to use it," T'Pol said. "Surely, we can talk this out."

"That's what we're doing right now!" Masaro shouted. Then he addressed Trip, clearly annoyed at T'Pol for even speaking. "Sir, I need you to record something for me. I need you to talk into this recorder and tell everyone, the whole universe, that it was all a mistake. That you should never have been lovers, and should have never had a child together. That, that little girl was a demon."

"I won't do it," Trip said through clenched teeth. "I won't denounce our baby!"

"I know it wasn't your fault," the young man said in response. "She tricked you. They can do that you know, play games with your mind, get you to do things you don't really want to. So, so if you can just tell everyone that Commander, then I won't have to kill you… If I kill her, they'll be satisfied, then maybe this can all be over. I just want it to be over."

"Randy, you give me that phase pistol," Trip demanded, rising again.

"I don't want to hurt you," Masaro said backing up.

"Trip," T'Pol called out just as he lunged for Masaro.

"Get out of here T'Pol!" Trip shouted as he grabbed Masaro's arm with the phase pistol in it. Two beams fired into the ceiling as the struggle continued. T'Pol ran for the door and called out for help down the corridor after two crewmen who had just walked by, one of which happened to be an on-duty security officer. The young crewmen ran back toward her quarters.

T'Pol and the two crewmen dashed through the door to find Ensign Masaro laid out on the floor with a hole in his middle, and Trip standing over him.

=/\=

Later.

The captain watched as the medics removed the covered body from T'Pol's quarters. Dr. Phlox had announced Masaro dead just minutes before. Malcolm and his team were busy taking scans of the room. T'Pol stood near the captain, hands clasped behind her back. Trip paced the floor of the hallway back and forwards, clenching his teeth and balling his fists. He seemed as if he was going to explode.

"I will give you a full report within the next hour," Phlox said to Captain Archer as the med team moved away with the body. He walked over to Trip and raised a scanner at him without asking permission.

"Hey!" Trip began to protest, "Stop that! I'm not the one with a phase pistol hole in my chest!"

"No, you're not, but you were the one who put it in Ensign Masaro, and you're greatly distressed about it. Your blood pressure is sky high, you are very anxious, and you have several swollen blood vessels in your head. In addition, those cuts on your face and neck won't get stitched by themselves."

Trip quickly wiped at the trickle of blood on the left side of his face and neck where he had several small cuts. "Scratches," he said, waiving Phlox off.

"You need to report to sick bay, immediately," the doctor insisted.

"I'm not going to sick bay!" Trip snapped. "And how come every time I see you lately doc, you're orderin' me to sick bay? Don't you have anybody else to practice your witch craft on?"

"Insulting me won't change the fact that you are in trouble Commander," Phlox responded without missing a beat. A couple of crewmen happened by and was walking slowly, obviously trying to hear what was going on.

"What are you gawking at?" Trip yelled. "Don't you have somewhere to be instead of lingerin' 'round here? Get outta here!" The crewmen hurried off quickly.

"Trip!" Archer responded. "Take it easy," he said as the crewmen disappeared around the corner. "Doctor, I'll make sure Commander Tucker gets to sick bay as soon as we're finished here.

Phlox nodded, shot Tucker a look and walked away.

Trip leaned up against the bulkhead, arms folded across his chest.

"Trip, T'Pol," we need to talk, Archer said.

"We already told Lt. Reed and his team what happened Captain," Trip snapped. "What the hell else needs to be said?"

"I'd like for you to tell _me_," Jon replied.

Trip flipped his hand in the air. "Masaro was a xenophobe, a member of Terra Prime, he began. "He's the one who told them about us, our relationship; broke into our personal files, found out about T'Pol being pregnant. That's how they knew, that's how they were able to steal Elizabeth," Trip lowered his head and bit his lip before continuing.

"He hated T'Pol and me too, for being with her; said he was gonna kill both of is. But he generously offered to spare me if I just told the universe that she tricked me into being with her; that, that Elizabeth was a mistake and a monster! Check his recording device, it's all there. I was able to knock the phase pistol out of his hand, then he came at with me with a blade. When I couldn't talk him out of guttin' me, I dove for the pistol on the floor and shot him. I didn't even think about it being on kill setting and I didn't have time to check it."

"Going for the phase pistol was a foolish, foolish thing to do in the first place Commander," T'Pol shot at Trip. "You could have been killed!"

"But I wasn't, was I!"

"It was illogical…"

"Don't start with me with that Vulcan logic crap!" Trip said through clenched teeth. "He wasn't playing a game, he was gonna kill us!"

"You are always so impulsive, you never think!"

"Stop it!" Archer said, getting between them. "You two beat all I have ever seen. Look, the fighting has gotten real old, and I've had all I want to hear of it, so just give it a rest! Trip, I know you're shaken up, having to kill your team member like that, and as I said, you _are _going to see Phlox as soon as we're done here. But I have something further to tell you and I think you both need to sit down and listen.

They all entered T'Pol's quarters and the Commanders sat on T'Pol's bed, wondering what this was all about. They listened intently as Captain Archer revealed the results of Malcolm's investigation. Malcolm had tried to leave the Captain alone with the two victims of yet another violation, but Archer insisted very strongly that he stay in case there were questions. Truth is, he didn't want to have to spill this nasty piece of news and have to see the looks on their faces and the sadness and grief in their eyes, on top of what was already there, all by himself.

After he had finished, there was complete silence. Trip just stared straight ahead and T'Pol stared at her hands clasped together in her lap, saying nothing. Archer and Malcolm looked at one another.

"Get Phlox," Archer finally said to Malcolm, breaking the silence.

Malcolm moved over to the comm, trying not to look at his colleagues. "Reed to Dr. Phlox."

"Phlox here," said the ever upbeat Denobulan. "What can I do for you Lieutenant?"

"The Captain has requested that you return to Commander T'Pol's quarters right away."

"On my way," Phlox said without asking more. By the time he got there, Archer and Reed had moved out into the hallway. They were standing there together, leaning against the bulkhead when Phlox arrived. He listened intently as Archer relayed the news about Malcolm's investigation and its results. Phlox took a few minutes to read Archer the riot act about his decision to inform Trip and T'Pol of the findings of the investigation without consulting him first, and his timing. Then without further hesitation, Phlox overrode the lock to T'Pol's quarters and stepped in. He immediately began running his scanners over the still glazed over senior officers.

"Are they alright?" Archer asked.

"Yes and no Captain," Phlox said. "I'm afraid they both appear to be in a state of shock, which should pass soon. But I don't like the results of the readings, especially on Commander Tucker. They look even worse than they did earlier. Blood pressure's way too high, heart's racing, his breathing's erratic. We need to get him to sick bay. T'Pol seems to just need to rest."

"But they've been like that for a few minutes now," Malcolm said.

Then, it happened. Trip doubled over and let out a big gasp. He shot up and raced for the bathroom and started to vomit violently. T'Pol was still staring, straight as a board. Dr. Phlox observed her for a few more moments, then sat next to her on the bed.

"T'Pol," he began. "Commander? I know you can hear me. Are you alright?"

T'Pol slowly turned to the doctor. She nodded. "I will be," she whispered. I just need to be alone… need to… meditate."

"Meditate right away, then rest. Is this okay?" Phlox asked, holding up the hypo-spray filled with a sedative.

"No," she said. "I will be… I will be fine." Phlox then laid the hypo on the table next to the bed.

Trip was still on the bathroom floor, dry-heaving. When it seemed there was nothing left in him, Malcolm and Captain Archer pulled him from the floor and flanking him on both sides, helped him to sick bay.

=/\=

Trip spent the night in sick bay, until Phlox had released him at 0700 hours, but not to resume his duties, then Phlox had gone to check on T'Pol. Trip stopped by his quarters long enough to shower and change, then he too headed for T'Pol's quarters. When he walked into her room, they spoke not a word. He just grabbed her and pulled her close to him.

They embraced for a long while. Neither could eat breakfast, but Phlox was just encouraged that they were helping each other deal with the distasteful news they had just gotten last night. He left them to talk.

"I've missed this, missed you," T'Pol said after Phlox had gone and she and Trip had talked a while.

"I've missed you too darlin," Trip admitted. "I just wish things with us didn't have to be so dammed complicated all the time, ya know."

"We have had our share of complicated situations," she agreed.

"Sorry I've been so distant," Trip said. "My head has just not been on straight. Then after last night…" he trailed off. "Who would have thought Masaro would do what he did? Then coming in here with that pistol… The last thing I wanted to do was kill that boy."

"I am sorry as well," T'Pol replied. "I called you impulsive and illogical for going for the phase pistol. But I am grateful that you did. You saved my life."

"I just wish there was some way I could have saved…" Trip started, then stopped himself.

"It was not your fault," T'Pol said as she sat close to him on her bench. "He left you no choice."

"I know, but I still feel guilty," the engineer said. "And I know I shouldn't! Part of me feels terrible about Randy being gone, the other part of me is pissed off as hell with him! I can't believe I was workin' with that boy every day, that I'd taken him under my wing! That our relationship didn't mean anything! He completely sold us out!"

"Try not to get agitated about it, it's over," T'Pol replied.

"Over," Trip said. "How can you say that? It's not over, it's far from over! What about what Jon said about…about the other baby-the little boy? _Our_ baby boy!"

T'Pol looked at Trip. "We don't even know if the child exists or not. If he survived…"

"But what if he did? T'Pol, that means we have another child out there! W-we've got to find him!"

"Where would we even start looking?" she asked. "It would be an insurmountable task."

"Well, I'd be willin' to take on the task," Trip snapped. "He's our son!"

T'Pol looked crushed at Trip's statement. He couldn't tell whether the thought that they had another child was too much for her to bear or the fact that they might never know the truth. Trip certainly knew those things were weighing heavily on him. But he sensed that she was deeply distressed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not tryin' to make this harder, really I'm not. But if I can't talk to you about it, who can I talk to?"

"Why don't we not talk about it at all," she suggested in return. "At least not right now."

Trip closed his eyes for a moment. "Are you saying we should just forget about him?"

"No," she replied, taking his hand in hers. "I'm just saying, we have been through enough for now, and we simply need some time to restore ourselves. This is devastating news, and we need some time to process all we have learned before we start making any decisions."

Trip did not respond, nor look at her as she spoke.

"We need to refocus our minds, to rest."

"Yeah," he finally said looking at her. "We really do need a break."

"We don't have to discuss any of the events of last night, last month or last year. We can just be here, together, for now. We can think of more pleasant events…recall some of the _good_ times we've had together."

Trip smiled a small, tired smile. "You know, I like that idea," he finally whispered, shaking his head in agreement. Then he pulled her close to him and they touched foreheads. They stayed tha way for a few moments.

"I have really missed this," T'Pol said. He kissed her. Then, they sat on her bunk, his back against the pillows on the wall, her in between his legs, leaning up against him. They didn't speak for a long time, they just sat quietly together.

Suddenly, Trip started to laugh a little. T'Pol turned and looked at him. He smiled at her and she turned back around.

After a couple of minutes, he laughed again. She turned around and looked at him again. "What is so amusing?" she asked.

"Do you still have that little nurse's outfit you wore for my birthday?" he asked with a smile. "That teeny, tiny skirt, that little hat and that cute little bra?"

"It was hardly a bra," she stated. "It was something closer to a sling shot. I had it incinerated the next morning."

"What about the black leather mini skirt and bra with the studs?" he grinned.

She turned and looked at him again. "Incinerated," she replied.

"And the whip?"

"I kept the whip," she said. "One never knows when one might need a good, sturdy, whip." Then she smiled a small smile. Trip just laughed, and they were silent again for a few moments.

"Do you still have the Chippendale's outfit," she asked as she leaned up against him. "the one that you wore for _my_ birthday?"

"I do," he said. "You never know when you might need to do a strip tease routine for a horny Vulcan," he whispered in her ear.

"Indeed," she replied.

He laughed and kissed her on the top of the head. "Indeed," he said with a grin and wrapped his arms around her closer.

They reminisced a while longer, then they fell asleep- T'Pol still wrapped in his arms.


	7. Chapter 7

Children of the Night

After it was discovered that Elizabeth had been cloned by Terra Prime and Ensign Masaro was killed, Trip and T'Pol had come together and experienced a night of closeness. The next day, however, Trip started to put distance between the two of them again. T'Pol could feel it in her mind, and see it in his body language and his actions. He barely spoke to her and he had become pretty good at shielding her out of his mind. He seemed to have no interest in resuming a relationship with her.

Trip had changed so much. He did nothing but work. He didn't eat with anyone, didn't talk much to anyone, and if he did, it was about work. He and Malcolm talked some, and they had worked out in the gym together a couple of times, but things were not the same. The happy, good-natured, optimist was gone. Trip was now sullen, quiet and rarely smiled. Everyone was concerned for him but he insisted that he was coping well enough.

T'Pol had tried to talk to him about taking care of himself better, but Trip had ignored her, attempting to restrict their interactions primarily to work. Phlox had of course noticed changes in the engineer and warned him about neglecting his health, especially resorting back to sedatives in order to sleep. Jon noticed how the chief engineer was always on edge, snappy and just plain rude at times. He knew he should have a talk with his old friend, but really just didn't want to have to deal with the fallout so he kept putting if off. In the meantime, he had a ship to run.

=/\=

The Captain had gathered all of the senior staff into his ready room for a briefing on their nexassignment. There had been a series of kidnappings of high government officials from Vulcan, Andoria and Tellar. Admiral Forrest had already briefed Jon regarding these kidnappings and the potential threat to Earth and its government officials. Earth and Vulcan were doing all it could to protect President Nathan Samuels, Ambassador Soval and Minister T'Pau.

Unfortunately, Administrator Xypec of the Vulcan Council was missing. It was believed that he had been captured by mauraders and was being held for ransom. The Vulcan Council had simply wanted to pay the ransom, but Star Fleet had advised against it. They were sure that Xypec would never be seen again if ransom was paid, and it would embolden these pirates to kidnap other officials from other worlds. These kinds of acts could be considered acts of war for Andoria and Tellar. Starfleet had ordered Enterprise to investigate these kidnappings and to mount rescue attempts if feasible.

"Well, I think the mystery has been solved," Archer stated to his senior staff. "The intel we have obtained indicates that the kidnappings were orchestrated by Orions. Malcolm, care to fill everybody in."

"Certainly," the Englishman replied. "It is as the Captain said, the Vulcan Council has been contacted by a third party. It seems their missing Administrator just showed up on an underground Orion auction site. But Vulcan has been given the opportunity to buy him back. If that doesn't happen within 72 hours, the Administrator goes up for sale on the open market."

"That's disgusting," Hoshi spat.

"Yeah that's really jacked up," Trip said.

"Slavery is quite distasteful," T'Pol added.

"Does the council intend to pay the ransom?" Travis asked.

"They wanted to," Jon answered, "but we've advised against it."

"But we have only have 72 hours," Hoshi said. "After that, the kidnappers' deadline will be up. Then the Administrator will go up for auction."

"That's precisely what we want to happen," Malcolm replied.

"Come again Lieutenant," Trip said, confused.

"You mean we're just gonna let him get sold off, like a piece of property or something?" Travis stated with a disturbed look on his face.

Then they all started to talk at once.

"Hold it a second everyone," the captain interrupted, holding up a hand. "All of you listen. Lt. Reed has come up with a plan. We're going to be at that auction and we're going to get the Administrator out. It will require an away team- Malcolm, Trip, Hoshi and me."

"Me?" Hoshi asked.

"You Ensign," Jon said. "We're going to need you to do some quick, fast and in a hurry translating. I'll be posing as a buyer and you're my assistant. Trip, we're going to need you along to disable some of their systems and get some doors open. Once we get the Administrator's exact location, Malcolm will get him out. T'Pol will be on the bridge and Travis you'll be driving the getaway car."

"The slave auction is filled with various types of species," T'Pol added. "Including Orion women as they sell them as slaves as well. So, everyone needs to be careful."

"Somehow I don't think any Orion women will be bothering us. Especially if they're busy being bought and paid for," Malcolm replied."

"Just in case, I've asked Phlox to prepare an inhibitor for us," Archer said. "Everyone on the away team will be inoculated against those pheromones before we set foot on the planet. Trip, make sure our engines are at level best. I'm sure we're going need to be able to hit it hard at a moment's notice.

"Aye Capt'n, you can count on it", the engineer said.

"Great," Jon replied. "Travis, set a course for the Orion system. Hoshi, get Admiral Gardner on the comm for me."

"Aye Captain," the two Ensigns said in unison. Then they dispersed.

=/\=

Orion Slave Auction.

Two Days Later.

Archer and Hoshi wore disguises and acted as wealthy buyers who kept outbidding others for several of the best merchandise. Of course, they had no intention of paying up. They caused a small disturbance as some of the other buyers became agitated at the newcomers for dominating the bidding. But their job was to distract the security detail and to keep the focus on the auction while Malcolm and Trip searched for the Vulcan diplomat.

The two officers were able to locate Administrator Xypec and was just about to have him transported to safety when he insisted on not leaving. Things went very wrong after that. He explained rather passionately, for a Vulcan, that there was something that Trip and Malcolm needed to see. He lead them to the back wall in a secluded room. He removed a large floor panel revealing an underground staircase, which led to a tunnel, deeply hidden below the auction market.

What Trip and Malcolm saw stunned them. It was 30 to 40 children of varying species, some were Tellarite and Andorian. A few others may have been Coridian, but there was no way to be sure. There were also several Vulcan children. Some of the children were crying, others were sleeping on the floor. Some were naked, while others grabbed at the Starfleet officers' clothing and begged for food.

"Bloody hell!" Malcolm said. "What are all these children doing here?"

"They are to be sold on the black market from what I have been able to learn," Xypec replied. "Those who are not sold, will be killed."

"We got to get them out of here!" Trip demanded. "C'mon Malcolm," he insisted, "let's get these kids out of here, now!"

"And how do you suggest we do that Commander? We've got one transporter. By the time we get Administrator Xypec to safety along with Hoshi and the Captain, they will have caught on to our signal."

"We can't just leave 'em here!" Trip said intently. "Look at this; look at all these children! These are somebody's children! They're helpless and we have to help them!"

"I agree Commander," Xypec said. "But it is illogical to assume that we can accomplish that at this moment. I do not have time to tell you how I came to know of this place and all I have learned, but I wanted you to see this so that you would be aware of this atrocity; that I would have witnesses to what is happening here. It is more than slave trading and kidnapping government officials, it's child trafficking as well. As you can see there are various species of children here. These actions could cause an intergalactic war. We need to take this knowledge back to our perspective governments and formulate a strategy to stop it."

"Formulate a strategy!" Trip shouted. "By the time we get through with that bullshit, these children will be sold, or dead! Now I don't know about you, but I think we need to take action, now!"

"What are you suggesting, that we carry them out one by one, by hand?" Malcolm asked getting more frustrated by the minute.

"Whatever it takes!" Trip shouted and picked up one of the small children.

"Commander!" Malcolm responded, stepping a little closer to Trip. "I suggest you stick to the mission at hand, sir. Now we've got to get out of here. I don't want to leave these children any more than you do, but we have got to go. If there is any hope for them, we've got to go now!" With that Malcolm whipped out his communicator and called for Enterprise.

"Reed to Enterprise."

"Go…head Lieu…ent," a voice crackled back.

"Three to transport, now."

"Hav… tr…ble g….ng… lock, sir."

"It's this bloody dungeon," the brit spat. "We've got to get back to ground level. Administrator, let's move. Commander, let's go, now!" Malcolm headed toward the winding staircase they had used to enter the lower level, phase pistol in hand. Half way up the stairs, he looked back, only to find Trip wasn't following him.

"Commander Tucker!" he shouted, but got no response. "Commander Tucker…Trip!" After a few moments he turned back to Xypec and said, "Keep moving sir."

Immediately upon reaching the ground level of the building where they had come in, Malcolm called for Enterprise again. Flashing lights surrounded them just as Orion guards came running into the room with drawn weapons. Only two people emerged from the transporter on Enterprise.

"Get a lock on the Captain and Ensign Sato, now!" Malcolm ordered. Within moments, the Captain and Hoshi emerged.

"That was cutting it close,' Archer said, throwing off the large hooded cape he was wearing.

"I'll say," Hoshi said. "In a few minutes, the Captain and I were gonna be on that platform, especially when that discovered we had nothing to pay with."

"Administrator, I'm Captain Jonathan Archer," Jon said to the Vulcan. "Welcome aboard."

"It is agreeable to meet you Captain," he replied.

"Now let's get the hell out of here!" the captain said as he started to pull at the prosthetics on his face.

"I must caution you not to be in a hurry," Xypec stated.

"Malcolm," Jon said looking around. "Where's Trip?"

"Captain…" Reed started.

"He did not return with us," the Administrator interjected. "That is why you need not retreat so quickly."

"What!" Archer shouted. "What the hell happened down there Malcolm? Where is Trip? Did he get lost? Is he injured?"

"No Captain," Malcolm tried to answer. "He became...distracted."

"The fault lies with me Captain. I am responsible for the Commander's actions," the Vulcan explained. "Your Lieutenant and I have much to discuss with you."

Suddenly, there was a blast. The ship had been detected and the Orions were firing on them.

"The plan was that we go to warp as soon as everyone was safely aboard," Jon said with a distorted look on his face. "We've lost precious minutes, now we're being fired upon. Let's get to the bridge Malcolm. But we can't leave just yet, we've got a man missing and I'm not leaving anyone behind!" Then they all broke out in to a run.

A few minutes later, Trip emerged in the transporter. He had called up in the confusion and the operator had heard him. He was not however, alone. He had one small child on his back, two in his arms and one wrapped around the bottom of his leg.

"Get the Captain, tell him I'm here, tell 'em to go to warp!" he yelled.

=/\=

Two Hours Later.

Enterprise was safely out of the Orion system. There was minimal damage to the ship where they had opened fire upon them. But Captain Archer was furious. Trip had almost jeopardized the entire mission. He deviated from the plan and put everyone at risk by his impulsive actions. Then he had brought four children aboard the ship.

Jon had just given Trip a pretty good dress down and was worn out. But he was just so damned angry at Trip for what he had done, for having to deal with four children on a starship and at himself for making Trip a part of the away mission in the first place. He knew he should have made the troubled man take some time off after the Masaro incident, and after informing him about the binary clones but he hadn't, and now he regretted it.

Trip was pretty pissed off himself. He couldn't understand how no one but him could see that those children needed rescuing, right then! He had a good mind to take one of the shuttle pods and go back to the Orion system and take care of the job himself. But he was just so exhausted, and angry! He decided that he needed to calm himself so he could think better. So, instead of acting impulsively, again, he tore his clothes off and jumped into a hot shower. It felt good. He was able to think for a few moments and relax a little bit. When he finally stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself, just thinking how he could use a beer or something, all of a sudden, he was there, in T'Pol's white room.

=/\=

Trip looked around, but didn't move. He placed his hands on his hips and called out. "What the hell am I doin' in here?"

"We need to talk," T'Pol said approaching him.

"Well, as you can see, I was having a private moment, so now is not the best time."

"It's never a good time," T'Pol snapped. "You have been avoiding me for weeks. We haven't talked since what happened with Ensign Masaro."

"There's nothing else to say. It's over, he's dead, I killed him, end of story!"

"I heard about what happened on Orion. Trip, what were you thinking? You put everyone's safety at risk, and you could have been killed."

"Those children were in trouble!" Trip snapped. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Just ignore that! Ignore all those…wide-eyed, dirty, starving, longing, sad eyes! Just staring at me! They wanted me, needed me, _somebody_ to do something!"

T'Pol tried to remain calm. "It is that kind of irresponsible, illogical, statements that causes others great concern for your mental state."

"You been listening to Phlox haven't you? Well I never asked anyone to worry about me, period. Not Jon, not Phlox…not you! All I want is to be left alone, by everyone, including you! So, can you please stop pulling me to this place, will you?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, stay out of my head! I can't do this right now T'Pol, okay! So, can you just give this bond shit a rest!"

"_Bond shit!"_ T'Pol repeated, her feelings hurt. "Does this mean you no longer have feelings for me Commander?"

Trip rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Oh, for crying out loud! That is not what I said! I just need some time! Is that too much to ask?" the agitated man said, then realized he was shouting. "Look," Trip said in a softer tone. "You know how I feel about you. It's just that so much has happened, and I'm trying to process it all, so please, give me some time to work through it. I still…care deeply for you."

T'Pol noticed the words he used.

"I-I just can't…deal with you right now. So, I'm asking you to give me some space. No more white room and no more bond for a while, please!"

"It's not that simple," T'Pol said as she paced around. "I can't just turn it on and off like a switch. I have been blocking your thoughts and emotions as best I can. But when I'm tired, or asleep, or when my control is slipping, I have difficulty staying "out of your head," as you put it."

"What?" Trip asked incredulously as he sensed her feelings through the bond. "This connection we've got is something else isn't it? It's more than just a psychic bond. What have you done to me!"

"You are correct Th'ylia…" she tried to explain.

"Don't!" he interrupted.

"Don't what?" she asked.

He frowned and help up a hand. "Don't start calling me by some Vulcan pet name that I don't have any idea what it means, that's what!" he snapped.

T'Pol took a deep breath, becoming impatient with him. "What we share is more than a simple connection," she continued. "It is a mating bond, and it's very strong. It may not be severable."

"You mean this is for life?"

"Yes. Vulcans mate for life Trip, therefore we are bondmates. By Vulcan standards, we are married."

"Married!" Trip shouted, his face turning red. "You gotta be kiddin' me! Look, humans don't like to do things without their knowledge and consent! We value freedom of choice, and if I get married, I wanna do it because I wanna do it, because I asked someone to marry me, or at least had the pleasure of being asked! I'm just old fashioned that way! I don't want to be told that I'm married and I didn't even know anything about it!"

"You're upset."

"Damned right I'm upset!"

"Does this mean you do not wish to continue as bondmates? You wish to sever our bond."

"You just said this was for life!"

T'Pol shifted on her feet, she was hurt but was determined not to show it. "There may be a way," she stated. "We may be able to sever the bond, but we would have to go before a Vulcan High Priest on Mt. Seleya. Only he can tell us if it can be severed…and perform the act."

"When do we leave?" Trip said in a biting tone. But again, regretted his response as he could feel her hurt.

"We must inform the Captain," T'Pol said. "Then perhaps we can take a leave and go to Vulcan. Ambassador Sovol is coming aboard in two days to retrieve Administrator Xypec. We may be able to accompany him when he departs for Vulcan."

Trip stood there for a moment. Part of him wanted to just stop this conversation and take her in his arms. She looked so small right now, so crushed. He had hurt her and he knew it. But, the other part of him, the angry, stubborn part of him wouldn't allow him to do it. Besides, she had hurt him plenty of times.

"Great!" he said. "Now get me the hell out of here."

In a moment, he was back in his quarters, still standing in the place where he had been before he was pulled away. He grabbed some underwear and clothes and pulled them on. He had to do something, talk to someone about this, but who? Then he remembered Sovol would be there soon. He and the Ambassador had come to an understanding during the Andorian-Vulcan incident some time ago. They had become somewhat friendly even, and they respected one another. He commed Hoshi and asked her to get Sovol for him. He needed some more information. T'Pol had a gift for leaving out vital information and Trip wanted to make sure he understood exactly what he had gotten himself in to and to figure out what to do about it.


	8. Chapter 8

The Edge

A Few Days Later

Ambassador Soval had offered to transport the children Trip had rescued from Orion back to Vulcan and to work out a plan to have them returned to their perspective home worlds. Jon was grateful for the assistance. He had also asked the Ambassador and Administrator Xypec to join them via telecom at a senior staff meeting so they could give input regarding the child trafficking ring.

Jon was still upset with Trip for almost jeopardizing the Orion mission and making such an irrational decision in bringing the children aboard the ship in the first place. Nevertheless, he allowed the engineer to attend the meeting since he was the reason they were involved now. He was not however, allowed to express his opinions. Jon had warned him to keep his mouth shut unless asked specifically to speak.

Conference Room, Enterprise

Trip listened as Captain Archer and the Senior staff discussed what had happened at the Orion slave auction a few days ago. He kept his head lowered as he stared at his hands clasped in front of him on the table, but said nothing.

"Captain, perhaps the Orions' motive for taking Vulcan, Andorian and Coridian children is simply for monetary gain," Xypec said. "But we are concerned that their actions could well ignite an intergalactic war."

"That is correct," Soval added. "Upon contacting the Andorians regarding the two Andorian children, we were accused of being involved in the kidnappings. The Tellarite government blamed the Andorians."

"The Orions acted alone according to the intel we were given," Jon replied. "There's no evidence that Vulcan, Andoria, nor anyone else had any thing to do with it."

"Nevertheless, tensions are high," Xypec said. "Therefore, this criminal activity must be stopped. Which brings us to the children that were left behind when I was rescued. The Andorian Prime Minister was livid that all of their children were not retrieved."

"That was an impossible task in the moment," Malcolm spat. His face was becoming red and his jaw was tight. "Leaving those helpless children was one of the hardest things I've ever done! But I had a decision to make and literally a few minutes to make it! I chose to follow orders as I could not see any other avenue! If there was anything else that could have…"

"Lieutenant Reed," Archer interrupted. "No one is blaming you for anything. You followed orders; you did your job. That's all anyone could've asked of you."

Malcolm gave Archer a look, but quickly looked away. He couldn't even look at Trip.

"Since you are still in close proximity," Soval began after a few seconds of silence passed. "Would it be possible for you continue to investigate? Would it be feasible to return for the children that were left behind?"

"I doubt those children are still there," Archer said. "I'm sure they're long gone by now."

"But what if they are?" Hoshi asked. "How can we just forget about them?"

"Or what if others have been abducted and hidden in the exact same place?" Travis said.

"Okay," Jon replied. "Let's say there are children in that cellar, that this is a regular hide-out. I'm not even sure how we would approach the issue. If anyone has any ideas, now is the time to put it out here," Archer said to his staff. "T'Pol, what would you suggest?"

"Captain, I suggest we present our report to the Vulcan government and to Starfleet. That we allow them to relay what strategy, if any, we will be using to address any kidnapped children. We should be ready to carry out the mission as assigned. However, I believe that our governments will be reluctant to get involved. Selling slaves is a way of life for the Orions. Who are we to interfere?"

"But, Captain," Hoshi interjected, "How can we just go on about our business? These are children we're talking about."

"Surely there's something that we can do," Malcolm said, a bit calmer now. "My team and I _could_ attempt a rescue. I'd love an opportunity to deal with those bloody slavers! I was there sir…I saw it first hand, along with Commander Tucker. It wasn't a pretty sight."

"There are many species who practice slavery," T'Pol countered. "We cannot go around the universe attempting to liberate every oppressed people we happen to run into. It's not what we're out here for."

"What if we just focused on the children we know about," Travis replied. "That is if they're still there, or if different ones have been brought in. We got the Administrator out, why not try to get those children out in a similar fashion? What if we took both shuttle pods into the system, and used the transporter, we could get quite a few of them out."

"But what about the rest of them?" Hoshi asked. "How would we decide who to take and who to leave?"

"We may be able to get the shuttle pods into their space without detection, but we'd never be able to get them out," Archer said.

"Perhaps if we created distraction, a ruse, as we did to get the Administrator out," Malcolm said hopeful. "If permitted, I am certain I could come up with a plan."

"I don't know Malcolm," Archer said. "I'm inclined to agree with T'Pol. We can't liberate everyone we run into. Like she said, it's not what we're out here for."

The tension in the room was getting thicker as everyone realized that Trip had said nothing. But that didn't mean that the group was not aware that his top was about to blow. He sat down at the far end of the table, fiddling with his hands, literally biting his lip and turning redder and redder as everyone spoke. No one even wanted to look in his direction.

"What is the Vulcan counsel's official position?" Jon asked the Vulcans.

"The council is concerned about these kidnappings and any threat of war they may provoke," Xypec said. "However, a strategy is still being formulated…"

With that Trip banged both his palms on the table and jumped up so quickly that his chair turned over as he rose. "I said it before and I'll say it again! You can sit around and wait for some tight-assed bureaucrats to formulate a strategy all you want, but that's bullshit! It's straight up bullshit!"

"Trip! Archer shouted standing…

"Those are kids we're talking about! They were hungry, they were scared and they were in danger! They're gonna die! They're gonna die I tell you!" he shouted as he banged his palm on the table. "Can you live with that! Can any of you live with that!" Trip ranted on.

"Commander, that's enough!" Archer shouted. "Sit down and shut up, that's an order!"

But Trip was too far gone. His emotions were out of control and his mouth was obliging them. "While we sit up here debatin', we could have already gotten at least a few more of 'em out! And a few more is better than no more! So, fuck formulatin' strategies! Fuck that! Fuck that!"

"Commander!" Archer shouted. "I ordered you to stand down and you've deliberately disobeyed my order! You're being totally disrespectful to everyone and you are completely out of control! Lieutenant Reed, escort Commander Tucker to the brig!"

"Sir?" Malcolm asked, hoping he did not hear what he thought he had just heard.

"You heard me!" Archer said, not backing down.

Trip glared at the entire senior staff, fire in his eyes. He kicked the chair that was already on the floor, knocked several pads, coffee cups and other items off the conference table, startling everyone, causing them to jump from their seats. He then banged his fist against the bulkhead. Malcolm quickly raced over to his friend and attempted to calm him, while the others stood watching in shock, not knowing what was going to happen next.

"Come on Commander, let's go!" Malcolm demanded.

"Don't touch me!" Trip shouted as he flinched away from Malcolm. "Don't touch me, I said! I don't need an escort! I know the way!"

"Malcolm, get him out of here now!" Archer shouted.

"Commander, don't make me involve a security team," Malcolm said, feeling terrible about arresting his friend.

Trip glared at Archer for a moment, fist balled, teeth clenched as if he were about to go another round. He then turned on his heel and exited the room, Malcolm close behind.

"Dismissed," Archer barked to the rest of his staff. When everyone was gone, Archer hit the table with his palm. "Damn it, Trip!" he said, and hit the table again.

=/\=

Later.

Phlox had been to see Trip in the brig, but Trip refused to talk to him. Malcolm had tried as well but Trip told him to mind his own fuckin' business and told him to get out. When T'Pol came, he wouldn't even acknowledge her presence.

After the day he'd had, Jon had a raging headache. He went to sickbay to get something for it and got an earful from Phlox as well.

"I just attempted to engage Mr. Tucker in the brig," Phlox said as Jon sat on the bio bed and the doctor flashed a light in his eyes.

"And," the captain replied.

"He wouldn't speak with me. His recent behavior greatly concerns me. But I am not convinced that incarceration is the answer."

"Look doc, I know he's been through a hell of a lot- with Elizabeth, finding out about the binary clone, killing Massaro and the whole mess with T'Pol," the Captain stated. "He hasn't been himself for a long time, but, quite honestly doctor, I didn't know how to deal with him. His work hadn't suffered so I just let it slide. I thought almost derailing the Orion mission and bringing those children on board was bad enough, but the way he acted this morning at that meeting was the last straw, and now I _have_ to deal with him."

"Captain I have been observing Mr. Tucker for months. He has been isolating himself, not caring for himself properly, pushing himself too hard and working far too many hours without taking breaks. He's not eating, not sleeping and I've treated him for several injuries within the last two weeks along with insomnia and headaches."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jon asked throwing his hands up. "Maybe things wouldn't have gotten this bad!"

"The Commander's injuries were documented in my daily reports," the doctor responded. "His extensive work hours have like-wise appeared on T'Pol's morning reports, and then there was doctor-patient confi…"

"Alright, alright," Jon said interrupting. "I get it, Trip's in a bad place, but I still have to deal with his behavior. What he did is serious enough to go on his permanent record. I could bust him down to crewman for this. I'm going to let him spend the next 2-3 days in the brig for insubordination while I decide what to do," Jon said.

"That may be unwise," Phlox intimated.

"Well I can't just let it go! He disobeyed my orders and acted a complete fool in that meeting."

"Incarceration will not address the real problem," Phlox insisted.

"Fine! Afterwards, I'll make him take some time off. As a matter of fact, I may suspend him altogether for a while."

"Captain, I understand the seriousness of the situation and the position you're in," Phlox said. "But I do not believe the Commander is completely responsible for his actions."

"What?" Jon replied with a scowl.

"I need to evaluate him," Phlox replied. "But I can already tell you that he is showing signs of mental distress and major depression."

"Depression!" Jon said, his tone changing now from that of anger to concern.

"Yes, anger is sometimes depression turned inward. The result is explosive and volatile behavior, and that could prove very dangerous."

Jon's face was a bit contorted and he looked very tired. He ran his hand over it before speaking. "Alright, if you think it's that serious, I'll have Malcolm bring him here first thing in the morning and order him to submit to treatment."

"No Captain. You cannot order a person to receive mental-health treatment. They have to believe they need it and want the help. Otherwise, it has no chance for success."

"I've tried to talk to him, I know T'Pol has tried. I believe Malcolm has even given it a shot. He won't listen to anyone. So, we're going to need to confront him, together; stage an intervention. But we're going to need to present a united front."

"And if that doesn't work?" the doctor asked.

Jon took a deep breath. "Then you will have to do what you have to do," he finally said. "And so will I… relieve him of duty, indefinitely."

=/\=

Malcolm had been to see Trip earlier in the day, but Trip had told him to fuck off. The Englishman had left and tried to get on with his business. If Trip Tucker didn't want his help, so be it. Stubborn fool!

Malcolm had worked out in the gym alone. He and Trip were supposed to work out together, but of course the engineer was otherwise engaged. He'd tried to have dinner with Hoshi and Travis but he was distracted and not much company. He'd returned to his quarters and tried to read but couldn't concentrate. He just kept thinking about Trip. A few minutes later, he was standing in front of his cell.

=/\=

At first, Trip tried to ignore Malcolm by pretending to read something as he lay on his back on the bunk in his cell.

"Alright Mr. Tuckah," Malcolm started. "You were totally out of line earlier today, so the Captain was well within his right to lock you up."

Trip didn't respond, he just kept his eyes glued on the PADD in his hand.

"I get it," Reed said. "You've been through a lot and you're mad at the entire universe as a result. But you can't continue like this Trip. You're going to lose everything if you don't get it together." The engineer still did not respond or look up from his reading. "You have got to get some help…"

Before he could finish the sentence, Trip bolted from the bunk and was standing face to face with Malcolm. "I told you to get lost!" he shouted. "So why don't you get the hell out of here and take your two-bit psychology with you, _Lieutenant_!"

"You can yell at me and be angry with me all you want _Commander_," the brit spat. "You can hurl all the insults you want as well, but I'm not leaving! You're going to listen to what I have to say whether you want to or not!"

"I don't have to listen to you or anybody else! Trip replied. "Guard! Guard!" he yelled at the on-duty security officer. "Get him the hell out of here, right now! I don't wanna see him or anybody else for that matter! You got that!"

Malcolm held his hand up at the young officer who was a member of his team. "As you were crewman!" The young man looked at Trip, then retreated back to his post.

Trip shot him an indignant look, then turned his attention back to Reed. "Who the hell do you think you are?" the angry man snarled.

Malcolm considered this for a few seconds. Then stated emphatically, "I am the bloody fool who got into trouble with you on that alien repair station _and_ the one that was tied up in a basement with you on Risa. I am the bloke that nearly died on Shuttle Pod One with you. I was right there, right beside you, freezing my arse off. I'm also the bastard that almost died with you on that Romulan drone ship we were trapped on.

Malcolm hesitated a moment as Trip stood there fuming. Then he continued. "We have worked together, gotten drunk together, gotten into trouble together and bloody damn near died together on more than one occasion!"

Trip still did not speak.

"In other words, _I_ am your friend Trip…and you need a friend right now. So, I'm _not_ going anywhere. Because if the situation was reversed and it was me in there, there's no way you would walk away."

Then there was complete silence as the two men stood there staring at one another.

Trip was red-faced, almost trembling, and his nostrils flared he was so mad. Malcolm thought the engineer was about to lash out again, when suddenly, his face softened and his shoulders dropped. Trip put his hand over his eyes for a second, then backed away from the window and sat down on his bunk, hard.

"I'm…sorry Mal," he finally said quietly. "You're right…you _are_ my friend, a good friend. Probably the only one I have left."

"You know that's not true," Malcolm replied. "Look, Trip. You've got to pull yourself together. You've been though a hell of a lot, no one can dispute that. But you've got to find a way to deal with it. Why don't you talk to Phlox? Perhaps he can help."

"I don't know Mal," Trip replied warily. "I just can't seem to bring myself to…verbalize what I'm feelin."

"You've got to try," Reed insisted. "You can't go on like this. I don't want to see you completely unravel and lose everything you're worked for. Talk to the doctor. At least give it some thought." There was silence for a few moments.

"Alright…" Trip finally said, pushing his hair back with both hands. "I'll think about it."

"Good man," Malcolm said. "I know I'm no professional counselor, but you know you can talk to me about anything, any time."

"Don't push it," Trip responded. Malcolm didn't know if he was trying to crack a joke or not.

"What can I do then?" he asked with all sincerity. "I really do want to help."

Trip hesitated a moment, then got up and walked back to the window where Malcolm stood. He faced him. "Everybody…keeps tellin' me to forget about…my son. That he's probably dead. I…would like to know for sure," the distraught man stated. "I have to know…Part of me wants to take a shuttle pod and just start lookin' for myself."

"That wouldn't be wise," the brit said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know, I know! But I been thinking; I've seen your report, but I'd like to see Starfleet's. I still have a lot of questions that no one can seem to answer. Did they even do a thorough investigation? Did they miss something? Maybe we could compare the two investigations, try to see if there was anything missed?"

"You know that report is classified. All I was given was the summary and I didn't see anything in it that was significantly different than mine."

"Somebody's coverin' somethin' up Mal," the engineer said in a desperate tone. "I'd bet my life on it!"

"Don't do this to yourself Trip," the brit pleaded. "It's not going to lead to anything good."

Trip lowered his head. "I just wanna know what happened to him. Is that so wrong?" the engineer asked sadly. "I know you believe he's dead. If Starfleet knows what happened to him…how he died…

"You really don't want to know that," Malcolm replied. "You just think you do."

"I Just. Need. Some. Closure!" Trip stated through his teeth. "If I don't get some answers, I'm gonna lose my mind!"

Malcolm rubbed his chin, then nodded his head in the affirmative. He was even more concerned about Trip now than ever. "I'll see what I can do," he finally agreed.

"Thanks Mal," Trip said, looking completely worn out. "That's all I'm askin'."

"Why don't you try and get some rest. Hopefully, you won't be in here much longer."

Trip nodded and turned to retreat to the bunk once again. Malcolm then walked away, thinking.

Perhaps he could do more than just provide a transcript for Trip to read. His friend needed closure. He wanted to know what happened to his son. Malcolm felt certain the child had been killed by Paxton's minions. He just didn't know how or who had done the ghastly deed. He was going to find out. Whether he passed that information on to Trip or not, however, was another matter.

=/\=

The Next Day.

When Jon and Phlox went to see Trip in the brig to lay down the law to him, they were pleasantly surprised that he was completely agreeable to everything they proposed. He agreed to having regular counseling sessions with Phlox, to apologize to everyone at the staff meeting where he had blown up by writing them a letter. He also agreed to accept his punishment; confinement to quarters for one month. He was free to leave only for his duty shift. In thirty days, Jon would determine what other actions needed to be taken, if any.

That Night.

Trip had worked part of Alpha shift and part of Beta ship, but only a total of eight hours as per Phlox's order. It was about 2100 hours when his door chime sounded. Trip was surprised. He knew he wasn't to have any visitors, and he'd already seen the doctor after his shift ended.

He hesitated before responding. "Come in," he said tentatively.

The door slid open and T'Pol stepped inside.

"What are you doing here T'Pol?" he asked. "You know I'm not supposed to have any visitors. You're gonna get both of us into trouble, and I'm already in enough."

"I wanted to see you," she replied. "To see if you were alright and if you needed anything."

"I'm, okay," he said. "I guess."

"I am pleased that you decided to speak with Phlox on a regular basis," T'Pol stated. "I hope you will be able to come to terms with everything that has happened."

Trip just stood there a moment, then nodded his head in agreement. "Me too," he stated. "But I'm gonna need you to leave. I don't want Jon thinking I'm violatin' the rules after the first day."

"I will only stay a few minutes. I just wanted to give you this," she said handing him a small box. He'd noticed she was holding it when she came in.

He was surprised again when he opened it. It contained two large chocolate brownies and two bottled beers. He smiled a small smile and looked at her. "What is this?" he asked.

"I told chef they were for me. One for now and one for later."

"And the beers?"

"Lieutenant Reed provided me with them. I told him that I wanted to sample them."

"You don't drink beer," he smirked.

"Yes, but you do. I thought I would share the dessert and a beer with you. That perhaps it could make confinement a little more pleasant".

"You can be sweet when you want to," he said. "Okay, c'mon," he said and gestured for her to sit on the bed with him.

He opened the beers and handed one to her. They ate the brownies and he took a big swig of the beer, watching her to see what she would do. T'Pol took a big gulp of the beverage and batted her eyes several times. He took another swig, trying not to laugh. She looked at him, then took another sip of the distasteful liquid. This time she frowned a bit.

He laughed and took the bottle from her. "You don't have to torture yourself on my account," he told her. "I know you don't like it."

T'Pol looked at him with longing. She wanted to say something but couldn't think of the right words. "I will leave you then," she said as she rose up. "Sleep well…Trip."

"Hey, thanks again," he replied as he got up. "That was really nice of you."

Then they stood there not saying anything, just staring at one another. After a few moments, his mouth found hers, without speaking a word. They kissed softly at first, then deep and passionately, drinking in the taste of each other. When they finally broke free, he gently stroked her face with each of his thumbs as he looked into her eyes. He struggled for words in his haze.

"Don't' speak," she said in a low voice, almost whispering as she placed her fingers over his lips. Then she slowly started to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. He closed his eyes and for a flash of a second, he almost accessed his anger and distrust of her. But he felt a warmth rush over him through the bond; feelings of concern, compassion, deep affection and desire.

She laid her hand on his chest and stroked his skin gently, her tongue exploring his mouth with growing boldness. At first, he wasn't sure if he was going to let this happen, but he found himself breaking the kiss to free himself of his shirt.

The rest of their clothes almost absently, found their way to the floor, piece by piece, between kisses and gentle touches. Moments later, they lay on his bunk, flesh touching flesh. He kissed her face, her lips, her neck and breast as a soft sigh escaped her lips. Moments later the sigh gave way to a loud, throaty moan that had traveled up from deep inside her belly. And they were helplessly lost in a wave of endless pleasure, suspending all thought of anything but this moment of bliss, sensation…and love.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **Greetings All! Thank you so much for taking the journey with me; moreover with Trip. I know I've been putting him through the wringer and you've been very patient waiting for him to get some relief. The story is only half-way finished however, but it will begin to make a shift after this chapter. Thanks for all the support I've received so far, the reviews, the favorites and follows as well as the PMs, are all greatly appreciated. I hope you will continue on the journey! Bri

* * *

The Deep

Enterprise had been assigned the task of investigating and rescuing two other kidnapped high-ranking officials. One was successful, the other was not and a Tellarite Ambassador had been killed as a result.

Enterprise also had the misfortune to encounter two slave ships transporting stolen children to sell on the black market. One of the ships was a cargo vessel where the children were housed. The other, a battle cruiser. Having been attacked by the Orion vessel near Chandra V, Enterprise engaged in a battle with it. While doing so, the cargo ship eluded them. After defeating the war ship, or at least disabling it so that it was at a dead stop and in need of repairs, Enterprise caught onto the signal of the cargo ship and was in hot pursuit.

After pursuing the ship for over one hour, they followed the much smaller cargo ship into Chandra V's air space. Enterprise was able to detect the ship on the surface. Archer suspected the Orions were there to kidnap more children. It was his intent to send an away team to investigate.

Trip pleaded with his Captain to let him be a part of the team. It was against Archer's better judgment and over Phlox's objections, but nevertheless, he was seriously considering letting Trip go. He was calmer, hadn't been in any trouble in the last few weeks, and had been following doctor's orders. He had even taken his punishment well which was confinement to quarters except for his duty shift for a month. But Phlox wasn't in favor of the idea.

Sick Bay.

"Captain, I just don't believe Commander Tucker is ready for this," Phlox protested.

"You said yourself doctor, he was talking to you, working out his issues, exercising, eating better, and genuinely seems to be on the mend."

"Yes, I did say all of that, but that doesn't mean the Commander is ready to go traipsing off on an away mission, especially one of this nature. He's still vulnerable and stress could cause him to regress."

"Phlox, don't fight me on this, okay. Trip needs this; to know I still trust him. Besides it may be just what he needs to get over the last hurdle. Think about it, this may be a chance to prevent the kidnapping of more children and possibly rescue the ones we detected on that Orion ship earlier. The success of this mission could boost Trip's and everyone else's morale."

"And what if something goes wrong?" Phlox asked rather pointedly.

Jon frowned a bit at that. He was well aware of how away missions could go south in an instant. He considered that for a moment. "It won't," he finally said. "Not this time. I can feel it in my gut."

"It's not your gut that concerns me," Phlox said sarcastically.

"Doctor, if you have no plans to invoke a medical override of my decision", Jon responded. "I'm taking Commander Tucker on this mission."

"Very well," Phlox finally conceded. "But Captain, you and I both have been walking a very fine line for some time now. I have let my personal feelings for Commander Tucker and for you to cloud my judgment in this matter. I know better than this, but I have gone along with your suggestions to keep his diagnoses hidden. You and I both have manipulated reports and official documents trying to handle this _in-house_, so to speak."

"I understand doc. I know I've put myself out there for Trip, and dragged you along with me. But, every time I think about his contributions to this ship, to our mission, to everything he did in the expanse to save our asses, and the many, many times that the entire crew's lives were in his hands, and how he never failed us; not once Doc, not even once. Then I have to try to save him, even if it's from himself."

=/\=

One Hour Later.

The away team consisted of Jon, Malcolm, Trip, three of Reed's security detail and three MACOS. Travis stayed with the Shuttle pod and T'Pol was on the bridge monitoring the activities below. Chandra V was a peace-loving species. They were well known for holding a three-day ritual to greet newcomers.

The away team landed in a remote, wooded area on the surface of the planet, near a lake. It seemed to be a place where families camped-out, fished and vacationed in a rustic environment. Several cabins were detected in the wooded areas.

The slavers had stunned or left for dead, several parents and taken their children. Upon being discovered, the Orions had engaged in a short fire fight with the Starfleet officers.

They were able to take down several of the kidnappers and get the Chandran children to safety. The team pursued the remaining criminals back to their craft. However, they were unable to prevent it from taking off. Jon called up and had T'Pol fire a few warning shots over the craft, knowing that children were aboard. Then suddenly, the ship did something unthinkable. They flew directly over the lake, and dumped the children they had captured, directly into it.

Archer and his team jumped into the water and tried to save as many of the children as they could along with some of the locals. The scene was ghastly; small bodies were floating in the water, some being taken away by the current, and some being washed up on the bank. Many of the locals were crying, as they reported to authorities about what they witnessed.

After giving their statements to the Chandran investigators who had arrived on the scene, Archer and crew returned to the shuttle pod. Everyone was shaken and no one spoke on the way back to the ship. Trip was surprisingly calm.

=/\=

Three days passed and Trip seemed to be handling the incident that had happened down on the planet with the children and the slave traders, but Phlox was skeptical. Jon had been beating himself up for once again making the wrong choice by allowing Trip to be a part of the away team in the first place. He was just glad to see the engineer going about his daily work and doing his job without incident. He still wasn't himself, but at least he seemed to be in a better place. Then out of nowhere, without warning, Jon received a shocking notice on a PADD early one morning. He called Trip into his ready room to discuss it.

=/\=

"Trip, what is this?"

"It's just what it says it is sir, my resignation from Enterprise and from Starfleet, effective immediately."

"Trip, this is insane," Jon said. "The last time you did something on an impulse you regretted it."

"This isn't the same thing Captain," Trip replied. "I'm not askin' for a transfer to another ship this time. I'm leaving Starfleet altogether."

"But why? Things seemed to be going better. You seemed better. I thought you had gotten through that rough patch."

For a few seconds Trip didn't respond. He just stood frozen in one place. Then he collapsed onto the Captain's sofa behind him as if all of his strength was suddenly gone. Jon noticed his defeated look and moved to the edge of his seat. "Trip what is it?" he asked concerned. "Talk to me!"

"Captain…I…I can't do this anymore" Trip stammered. "I…just can't. I can't pretend anymore. This no longer feels like home for me! Nothing feels right and I just want out! I can't stand another day of this! I've got to get away from…from this!"

"From what Trip! From the ship?"

"Yes! The ship, from…everything! I don't know, alright! I just need to get away… okay!"

"Alright, alright! I hear you! Just take it easy," Jon said holding out both hands. "But don't resign, at least not right this moment, please. Not while you're in this state. At least give it a day. Let me see if I can come up with an alternative."

"An alternative? Like what?" Trip said bewildered.

"I don't know yet. But at least let me try. Maybe some extensive time off; a leave of absence."

"Jon, a trip to Risa isn't gonna cure this, neither is going home for a couple of months."

"I understand that," the Captain replied. "But at least let me try, please."

Trip threw up his hands and made an exasperated sound. "Okay, he said. "I'll wait. One day…one day." Then he rose up and quickly left the room without even glancing back at Jon.

Once Trip had left the room, Jon called Phlox. He needed help and he knew Phlox knew a lot of people from a lot of places. Together they may just be able to come up with a plan to help his friend. Perhaps he could help him save his career too.

=/\=

Later That Day.

Lt. Hess called the bridge. "Captain Archer," this is Lt. Hess!" she said frantically.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," he replied. "Sir, I don't know what to do! I need your help, hurry!"

"Calm down Lieutenant, what's the matter?"

"It's Commander Tucker, Sir! He's… he's acting really strange. He's been working on a fried EPS grid for over an hour and it has already burned him pretty badly. I told him it was not reparable, and that I thought it was gonna blow, but he won't leave it alone. Captain, he's gonna kill himself!"

"On my way!" Archer shouted. "Malcolm, you're with me. Hoshi, call Phlox and have him meet us in engineering!"

=/\=

When they arrived in engineering, they found the entire staff locked outside the entrance and they could hear loud banging and shouting coming from the inside. Trip had thrown everyone out, but Lt. Hess refused to leave. She was pleading with him to stop what he was doing.

"Lt. Hess, this is Captain Archer, open the door!" he called out. Moments later, the main doors to engineering slid open, and they found Trip messing with a shorted-out conduit as it sparked and small flames erupted.

"Trip! What the hell are you doing?" Archer called out.

"My job!" Trip shot back without turning around.

"Hess said this thing is shot and it was going to blow any minute!"

"She doesn't know what she's talkin' about! I can get it working I tell you!"

"Commander, you need to step away from the grid," Malcolm said forcefully.

"Who's the engineer here?" Trip snapped, looking over his shoulder at his friend. "You or me Malcolm?"

"I told you Captain. He's won't listen! That thing is gonna blow up and kill him!" Hess said frantically.

"Thought I told you to get the hell out of here Anna!" Trip shouted.

"Trip! Stop it, now!" Archer barked. "That's an order!"

"Commander, you are already badly injured," Phlox interjected. "Please come to sick bay and let me have a look at those burns."

"I'm fine! Anyway, who asked you! Who asked any of you, anything! Now if you would all just get the hell out of here…" A portion of the grid erupted. They all flinched. Trip was startled, but immediately tried to put out the fire. Malcolm grabbed an extinguisher and turned it onto the flame.

"That's it," Archer barked. "Trip, we're taking you to sick bay!"

"I'm not going to sick bay!" Trip shouted. "I'm not going anywhere! I'm just trying to do my goddamned job, but you keep interferin! Leave me alone! Just leave me the fuck alone! I know what I'm doin'!"

"We're trying to help you," Archer said. "Look Trip, I know you're hurting, and it's my fault. I never should have let you go on the away team. We were all shaken by what we saw down on that planet a couple of days ago."

Trip stopped what he was doing for a moment, but never turned around. "The water just took 'em away and...all I could do was watch," he finally said. "As usual, I was useless!"

"I would have done anything in my power to save all of those children and I know you would have too Trip," Malcolm interjected "But there was nothing more any of us could have done at that point. There were just too many children and the current was just too strong."

"_Nothing more any of us could have done_," Trip repeated in a drone-like fashion. "Nothing "_I" _could have done! Story of my whole miserable life! So, at least let me do something I can do, and that's fix this stupid, idiotic EPS grid!" he shouted, and resumed banging on it.

"It's not fixable Commander!" Hess shouted over the noise.

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot fix!" the distraught man shouted and continued to bang at the grid with his hypo-spanner. Suddenly it sparked again, and the lights in that section of engineering blinked on and off as the smell of electricity burning assaulted all of them. Then smoke filled the immediate area.

"Commander, no!" Malcolm cried out.

"Captain!" Hess shouted.

Then Archer and Malcolm grabbed the engineer from behind and pulled him away from the grid and wrestled him to the floor as he screamed, yelled, cursed and kicked. Phlox hurried over and pressed a hypo-spray with a strong sedative in it against his neck as he was held down, then they carried him off to sick bay.

=/\=

The Next Day.

Captain Archer and Doctor Phlox stood outside Trip's quarters.

"If it's any consolation doctor, you were right and I was wrong," Jon said.

"No Captain, I was wrong. I never should have let this progress this far. As I told you earlier, I know better than this. But do you really think there's a chance he'll go for this little plan we've devised?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, I do, considering the alternative," Jon stated. He then rang the chime, but there was no answer.

"But you said he tried to resign," Phlox replied. "And you refused to accept his resignation. How is threatening to relieve him of duty and sending him home going to serve as any leverage?"

"Because I know him doc," Jon said. "He doesn't want to quit, not really. He's desperate and feeling pushed into a corner with nowhere to go. I just didn't understand how desperate he was until now."

"I suppose this plan, if he accepts it, would be better than just allowing him to go running off to who knows where, in the state he's in," Phlox said and sounded the chime on the door again. After a few more moments, the captain entered the override code on the door and in they went.

Trip was lying on his bunk on his back and staring at the ceiling. The events of the day before had taken a toll on him. He was exhausted and looked every bit of it. He had apparently slept in his uniform and it was wrinkled, his hair uncombed and he was unshaved. His eyes were blood-shot and his hands slightly trembled. Jon sat across from the engineer, watching as the troubled man sat up on the bunk.

Phlox approached him with a scanner. "May I?" he asked.

Trip just flipped his hand at the doctor without even looking at him. Phlox that as a yes and began his scans. The Denobulan frowned at the readings.

"How're you feeling Trip? Jon asked.

The engineer wiped his hand across his face then said, "Tired. I slept a couple of hours after you zapped me," Trip said finally locking eyes with the Denobulan. "But then I woke up and I couldn't go back to sleep after that."

"That is quite unusual Commander," Phlox replied. "I gave you a strong sedative."

Trip just hunched his shoulders at that. "I'm sorry about yesterday," he said, bending over and running his hands through his hair. "I don't know what happened, I just lost it for a few minutes."

"You don't have to apologize Trip," Jon said trying to sound reassuring. "It's my fault. I never should have let you go on that away mission."

"Nobody knew what those bastards were gonna do with those kids," Trip said in return. "I guess it affected me more than I realized. But I was serious when I said I needed to get away. I'm sure you can see that now."

"I do," Jon replied.

"So uh, guess you're ready to accept my resignation now captain? Or, maybe you're here to boot me off the ship. I wouldn't blame you, not after my award-winning performance down in engineerin' yesterday."

"I'm not booting you off the ship Commander," Jon said. "But I can't ignore what happened yesterday either. Phlox and I both have been concerned about you for some time and while I'm not kicking you off the ship, something has to be done."

"I understand," Trip said looking at his hands. "I know I screwed up."

"You did more that screw up Trip, you put yourself in danger, and others as well," Jon said frowning.

"I…I was just …u-upset about the EPS grid…" Trip spoke, his voice unsteady.

"No Trip, you were completely out of control," the captain stated. "You scared the hell out of Lt. Hess. You had already been burned by the damn gird. It was fried and she was afraid it was going to explode and kill you. So was I."

"I was tryin' to fix it!" Trip snapped, his whole demeanor suddenly changing.

"It wasn't fixable!" Archer replied raising his voice. "You knew it wasn't fixable. I think you wanted it to blow!"

"Why would I want that!" Trip shot back "You think I have a death wish or something?"

"Perhaps," Phlox interjected. "I am not going to sugar coat this Commander. I believe you are clinically depressed and in need of professional treatment. For months you isolated yourself, and failed to take care of yourself, evidenced by your weight loss. You exhibited anger on far too many occasions. You took unnecessary risks on several occasions resulting in your being injured. While you have made strides over the last few weeks to turn things around, I feared you were still in a vulnerable state. Yesterday's events pushed you over the edge."

"Are you saying I had some kind of break down?' Trip snapped.

"Perhaps," the doctor continued. "Your actions in engineering now leads me to conclude that you are a danger to yourself and to others. Therefore, I must relieve you of duty."

"I would never hurt anyone!" Trip exclaimed loudly.

"No, not consciously, nor intentionally," Archer said. "But the doctor's right Trip. I've never seen you like that in the 12 years I've known you. It was…unsettling."

"I don't know what the hell was wrong with me," Trip said, his voice shaky again. "It's like I could see myself doing what I was doing, I just couldn't stop myself. But I already tried to resign!" the troubled man said rising abruptly, his demeanor flipping back to angry and volatile. "You refused to accept it! Well don't worry yourselves! I'm outta here! Just drop me off on the next M-class planet or I'll catch the next freighter we come in contact with!"

"Just hold on a minute Trip," Jon said rising to meet the engineer's glare. "I need you to hold it together, alright. We're just talking this out. And, no, I'm still not prepared to accept your resignation."

Trip threw his hands up in the air. "What the hell do you want from me then?" he asked frustrated. "You come here sayin' you're _not_ kickin' me off the ship! Then you tell me I'm _nuts_ and a big threat to everybody, includin' myself! That, that…I… I'm relieved of duty! You won't let me work, but you won't let me resign!"

"We have a proposal," Archer said. "Dr. Phlox has found a facility that he thinks can help you get your life back on track."

"Whadda you mean, a facility?" Trip asked incredulously.

"I believe that you need to be treated by a professional," Phlox said. "However, since you are opposed to traditional treatment methods, perhaps an alternative is in order. I have a colleague on a planet called Zenaria Prime. It is home to a very large interspecies university and hospital."

"Hospital!" Trip said. "Aw, there it is!"

Phlox just help up his hand. "If you would allow me to finish," he said.

Trip shot Jon a look, then turned his wild-eyed gaze back upon Phlox. Jon watched the engineer closely, not sure of what he was about to do. Then, as if totally wiped out, Trip slowly backed up and sat back on his bunk. He closed his eyes for a moment and held his forehead in hand. He then looked up at the doctor warily. Jon took a deep breath and sat back down as well.

"What I was trying to explain to you Mr. Tucker," Phlox continued, "is that the university is in need of a top-notch engineer in their Engineering and Science department to teach a couple of classes on advanced warp theory. The regular professor is on maternity leave and they need someone to take her class for one term. It is a three-month assignment."

"Teach a class!" Trip replied, surprised and confused. "Thought you said I was sick? If I'm in such bad shape, what makes you think I'm capable of teaching a class?"

"Because you're the best engineer in the fleet Trip," Jon interjected. "And I know you'd be great at it."

"Besides," Phlox added, "Zenaria Prime is a wonderful place, a tropical paradise. It will offer you an opportunity to get away from this environment for a while. You can de-stress and relax. I believe this in itself could be a very effective treatment."

Trip looked at Phlox, then at Jon as if he were considering this. He fiddled with his hands in front of him for a moment. "I've never thought of myself as a teacher."

"You train new personnel all the time Trip," Jon said. "Teaching is very much like training, just in a classroom setting."

"The Dean stated that you could implement your own style as well," Phlox added. "This a tremendous opportunity."

"I don't know," Trip replied. "Me, in a classroom. I just don't know."

"Think about it Commander," Jon encouraged him. "This will get you off the ship for a while. That's what you wanted, right? You'll have an opportunity to relax on a beautiful, resort-style planet, and Phlox thinks that will help alleviate your stress, calm your nerves and help you get things back on track. It's a perfect solution. When the term ends, if you're feeling better about things, you come back to the ship. Your job will be waiting for you. If you still want to resign, then I'll sign your papers. What'll you say?"

Trip thought for a moment. He got up and paced around for a few seconds. "Let me think about it," he finally said. "A change of scenery may be just the thing. Besides, I guess I have nothing to lose. Can I let you know tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," Jon said with a small smile as he rose. Then he and Phlox left.

Once they were out in the corridor and walking away from Trip's cabin, they continued to discuss their plan.

=/\=

"He's going for it," Jon said. "I know him well enough to know that when his mind is made up, there's no changing it. He's going to do it."

"I know what I said back there, but I'm not even convinced myself that he's in any condition to teach a class," the doctor admitted. "Commander Tucker is unstable and this could all backfire. This is highly irregular captain."

"Look doc, we both know he's qualified and capable. Sure, he's a mess right now, but a change of pace will do him some good, I know it. If he can stay focused, he'll will do just fine."

"My larger concern is whether my dear friend Dr. E'Vaine, will be able to convince him to spend some time with her," Phlox replied. "She is a universally renowned psychiatrist. If anyone can help him, she can. She promised me she would seek him out. Rest and relaxation only goes so far captain. He needs to deal with his issues."

Jon sighed. "This will work doc," he said. "It has too. Because if it doesn't…his career is probably over."

"And that would be a great loss," Phlox said. "For Starfleet and for us all."

Jon shook his head in agreement as they continued to walk away.


	10. Chapter 10

Cause and Effect

Hoshi sat on her bunk crying. She had not seemed to be able to stop since she learned about the failed away mission on Chandra V and its harrowing results. Everyone had been so hopeful when they had caught up with the Orion cargo ship transporting kidnapped children. The away team had been eager to mount a rescue. But the mission had ended in tragedy. Hoshi had just been grateful that she had not witnessed it, but she also felt guilty for even thinking like that. Suddenly, her door chime sounded several times. It was as if someone was desperate to get in.

The distraught woman wiped her eyes on a tissue, the hurried to the door. She opened it to find a grinning Mayweather standing there.

"Hey girl!" he said loudly, then pushed past her into the room, without being invited. Hoshi was surprised to see him carrying a bottle of some kind of liquor. She knew Travis didn't drink.

"Travis!" she said and grabbed hold of the staggering man's arm. She then guided him to her desk chair and pushed him into it. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he said. "Getting hammered!"

"Give me that!" she said as the helmsman lifted the blue ale to his lips. She grabbed the bottle, taking it away and spilling a little of it as she did so.

"Hey, you give that back!" he slurred. "That's gen-u-wine Andorian ale! That'll put hair on your chest, baby! You, you know what I had to go through to get that?"

"Travis Mayweather, you're drunk as a skunk!"

"So, what if I am?" he snapped, then swayed. He put his head in his hands bending over slightly. "Awww, hell! My head hurts, my eyes…hurt. Everything, just friggin' hurts!"

"I know," she said gently kneeling down beside her friend. "I know what you saw down there was horrible. I know it can't be easy to put behind you either. But this is not the way to do it, okay."

"I was told to stay with the pod," he slurred. "I was pretty pissed off about it too! I wanted a piece of the action. So, I brought the pod over to the river when I saw that Orion craft lift off and fly over," Travis explained as he made a flying gesture with his hand. "Thought I'd scoop everybody up, and we'd get after the bastards again. Ya know, tryna be pro-active. Tryna show some initiative."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Hoshi replied gently, placing her hand on the inebriated helmsman's arm. "The captain encourages us to do that all the time."

"Hoshi? Travis began, sadly, his speech slurring more. "You ever saw a couple of dozen…dead…little children…all at one time? Little bitty bodies, eyes rolled back in their heads…bodies limp…lifeless!"

"No," she said, then bit her lip.

"Good!" he replied jovially. "Thank your lucky stars, madame! …Cause...I can't _stop_ seeing 'em."

The disturbed young man then hung his head as a few tears ran down his face. Hoshi stood up and put her arms around him as he leaned forward on her. Her tears had started to flow again as well.

=/\=

Later.

Hoshi left Travis sleeping on her bunk with a cold towel on his forehead. She had gone in search of Malcolm. She knew the Brit had a penchant for hiding the things that bothered him. But she remembered how passionate he was at the staff meeting trying to explain how hard it was to leave the children behind on Orion.

She checked the mess hall and his quarters, to no avail. She found him in the gym. Several crew members had gathered around the boxing ring. Malcolm and a much larger crew member, Reynolds, one of the MACOS was dancing around in the ring. The other crewmembers were calling out and egging the fight on. Malcolm had a small cut on his forehead over his left eye that was bleeding, and Reynolds' nose and lip was bleeding.

"C'mon!" somebody yelled. "Bring it on!"

"I got twenty on the Lieutenant!" somebody yelled out.

Hoshi was horrified. She knew Malcolm, and he had no business being in the ring with anybody if he was in the kind of state she suspected he was in.

"Malcolm!" she called out, trying to get his attention.

"Don't do that!" one of the crewmembers watching said. "You'll distract him!"

Suddenly Reed landed a series of punches onto his opponent's head. He then uppercut him with his left fist right under the chin, and the man staggered. Everybody cheered. Then Reed viciously attacked the man, striking blow after blow to his face, head and torso.

For a moment everyone cheered wildly, then suddenly something changed. Reynolds was on the ropes, struggling just to stay standing. But Malcolm was relentless and was beating the man mercilessly.

"Stop it!" Hoshi cried out. "Malcolm!"

By this time, several of the others realized this was getting out of hand and jumped into the ring. It took three crewmen to pull the out-of-control Englishman off of the younger man. Reynolds unceremoniously, fell to the floor.

Malcolm looked dazed, but finally locked eyes onto Hoshi. Then he quickly glanced over at the bleeding, unconscious man on the floor.

"Get Phlox!" Hoshi yelled. One of the stunned crewmen finally collected himself and ran over to the comm.

When Reed realized what he had done, he bolted. Hoshi ran after him.

=/\=

Malcolm's Quarters.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," the bewildered man said in a shaky voice. "We were just sparring…it was just supposed to be a bloody exercise!"

"I know you didn't mean it," Hoshi said as she held an ice pack on her lover's left eye. "You were trying to relieve some stress... I know you were reacting to what happened down on the planet surface a few days ago. It's okay, you can admit it."

Malcolm didn't say anything. Silence just hung in the air. He finally took her hand off of his face, still holding it. She slid down onto the bunk beside him.

"There's a lot of that going around," the linguist said.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her hand. Then he stood up. "I've got to go check on Reynolds. Then I'm going to see the captain…to put myself on report."

"You were off duty…and like you said, it was an exercise. Reynolds willingly got in the ring."

"Yes, well right you are," he stated. "But I don't recall him willingly consenting to being bloody beaten to a pulp!"

"Malcolm, wait!" Hoshi called out after him. But he was already out the door.

=/\=

Captain's Quarters, Later that Night.

Phlox had treated Reynolds and kept him overnight for observations. Malcolm had tried to put himself on report, but the Captain, instead, told him they'd sort it all out the next day. He was expecting a guest and was anxious to see her. He needed someone to talk to.

Columbia was in the area having been assigned to help with the search and rescue of the most recent kidnapped official. Erika took the opportunity to join Jon that night. He was still shaken by the events that had unfolded down on Chandra V several days ago. He poured Erika a drink and handed it to her then sat down beside her on his sofa.

"Thanks," she said and took a sip. "I'm sorry about the children. They were poor innocent victims."

"It's all so surreal," Jon replied. "It was probably the worst thing I've witnessed out here. I mean, I've seen my share of dead bodies, but they weren't children. And it was so many of them."

"How many of them were recovered?" Erika asked, concern on her face for her some-time lover.

"Only 21," the captain said lowering his head and staring into his drink. "We've got them stored in cryo-tubes, until we can get them back to their perspective home worlds…Three of them were human."

Erika was taken aback. "Human!" she exclaimed. "How did the Orions get their hands on three human children way out here?"

"Who knows," Jon replied, as he got up and paced around a bit, clearly unsettled. "They could have been traveling with their parents on a cargo ship; visiting another planet with their parents, or… who knows!" he said and threw his drink back.

Erika set her glass down and walked over to where Jon was leaning against his desk. "It's alright," she said placing her hand on his back. Then he turned toward her as she put her arms around him and they embraced for a few moments.

=/\=

Later.

Jon had tossed and turned most of the night causing Erika to wake up several times. She had placed her hand on his back and tried to soothe him when he cried out in his sleep. He was obviously having a nightmare. He had started having them after the expanse. But, his some-time companion was surprised that after all this time, he was still having them.

He thrashed about so much, she became concerned. Colombia's captain moved over in the bed and placed her hand on him once again, rubbing his back and quietly assuring him that it was okay.

"Take it easy Jon," she whispered. "It's okay, it's okay. Just take it easy."

Then suddenly he shot up screaming out, "What are you doing!"

"Jon!" the startled woman replied. "It's me Erika! You were having a nightmare, I was…!"

With that he leaped on her, straddling her, and started choking her. Erika struggled under the captain fearing that he might actually kill her. She was trying to call out to him all the while trying to remove his hands from her neck, but to no avail. She finally reached over and felt around on the stand next to the bed finding a hard object. She hit him with the decorative piece, on the right side of his head.

That jolted him and he fell over to the side, still partially draped over her. "What! What the hell is going on?" he said, holding his bleeding head. "What happened? Tell me what happened!"

Erika pushed him off of her and rolled off the bed, holding her neck and coughing.

"Erika! What's wrong? What happened?" he kept asking her.

=/\=

Sick Bay, a Short Time Later.

"You suffered no major injury. Just a mild case of neck strain," Phlox said as he pressed a hypo to the distraught woman's neck. "This will help with the pain. I'm afraid I can do nothing about the bruises."

"Thank you, doctor," Erika said in a hoarse voice.

"The strain to your larynx will have to wear off naturally. But you should be able to speak clearly in a few days."

Jon stood on the far wall with his arms folded across his chest, saying nothing, looking at the floor. Phlox looked over at him. "I can attend to that laceration now captain," the doctor stated.

"Don't bother," Jon replied. "It's…nothing."

"I suggest you let me take a look. You may need stitches, or have a concussion."

"I don't have a concussion…and I don't need stitches!" the captain snapped, touching the injury.

"Very well," Phlox said and turned his attention back to Erika. "We need to talk about this Captain Hernandez. I am sure you are aware that I can see the fingerprints around your neck."

"I told you what happened!" she scratched out, almost in a whisper. "I choked on an olive that was in my drink. I was pressing my neck, trying to dislodge it. That's what happened."

"Ummm hmmm," Phlox said looking over at the captain. "And you received that cut to your head while trying to help her, correct Captain?"

Jon stood up straight. "No…that's not exactly how it happened," he said slowly. But Erika had leaped off the bio bed and dashed over to where he stood.

"Sure it is," she crackled, looking at Jon. "He slipped and fell trying to get to me. He hit his head on the edge of the night stand."

"Captain Hernandez," Phlox said. "I have been a doctor a long time, and I am no fool. I know that someone choked you and I am pretty sure I know who that someone was. What I don't know is why or the circumstances surrounding the act." Jon nor Erika spoke. "And Captain, someone hit you, I'm certain of that as well. However, my medical log will reflect what you have reported. But a word of caution: this is dangerous. Mr. Tucker was not the only one affected by what happened down on that planet. Everyone on that away team needs to find a way to deal with what they saw. And, if your nightmares have returned Captain, you need my help, now more than ever. Reacting violently is very dangerous, very dangerous indeed."

Jon didn't respond.

"Thank you, doctor," Hernandez finally said. "We'll be going now." She turned to leave and gestured for Jon to follow her.

"Try to rest your voice as much as possible," Phlox said as they exited Sick Bay.

Outside in the corridor, Erika was not so forgiving and supportive.

=/\=

"I'm sorry Erika," the captain said again for the umpteenth time. "You didn't have to lie to protect me though."

"Didn't I?" she whispered. "You wanna try explaining this to HQ? Look, I don't want to see your career take a hit on my account."

"You know I would never intentionally hurt you," he pleaded. "It's just that, the stress of dealing with everything that's happened in the last few months has been overwhelming. I've been so busy with this mission and trying to help Trip get a handle on all his issues, reign in his anger…"

"So busy that you forgot to get a handle on _your_ issues and reign in _your _anger!" she replied indignantly, straining her voice to get her point across. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! You have never really dealt with your _own_ demons from the expanse! You've just been covering them up. Then you dive into the next big thing to distract you from it. What happened on Chandra V has apparently stirred it all up for you again. Phlox is right, you need help. And you'd better get it! Until you do, don't…don't bother calling."

Then she stormed away leaving him standing alone in the corridor.

=/\=

Trip was leaving the ship, again. T'Pol was extremely disappointed to say the least. She still didn't like it. But she knew it was for the best. He was attempting to take care of himself. How could she be upset about that?

She had thought they were making progress in working things out between them after their night of passion several weeks ago. But he had told her that night that what happened between them 'didn't really fix anything.' He then made it clear that he wasn't ready to resume their relationship.

After that night, however, his attitude toward her had changed. He talked to her more, occasionally smiled at her, and had even had a couple of meals with her in the mess hall. The wall he had erected between them seemed to be slowly coming down. But then, the incident on Chandra V happened, and the fallout in engineering.

Phlox had said that the Commander had suffered a mental breakdown. But the doctor would not discuss it with her further. Therefore, she had no idea how to help her t'hy'la. It was odd, she thought constantly about Trip's health and how she could help him, when in fact, she needed help with her own mental distress.

She had always pointed out to humans that the Vulcan mind was stronger and more disciplined than that of a human. But the events in the Expanse, her relationship with Trip, and the deaths of her mother and child had taken a toll on her psyche. Of course, she couldn't tell anyone that. But she had thought about seeking some type of therapy for herself. She thought about contacting a Vulcan Priest, but was certain one would not speak to her via telecom. She would need to seek assistance on Mount Seleya. Perhaps something to consider when the ship had its next shore leave.

The other most distressing thought for T'Pol was the fact that she and Trip may have another child out there somewhere. She had tried with everything in her to put those thoughts away. But they kept returning to the forefront of her mind. She hadn't discussed the child with Trip again since they first learned about the possibility of his existence. It was too difficult and it only added to his distress.

She had thought several times about contacting an old colleague of hers with the V'Shar, and recruiting him to launch her own investigation. But that would mean revealing personal information to the Vulcan. It was pretty much common knowledge about her and Trip's relationship, but she had not spoken to any Vulcan other than Soval since they buried Elizabeth on her home world. She had endured the looks and comments from her people who sensed her bond with the human and the knowledge that she had mated with him. They had been disturbed by this. She was sure she would be shunned when she returned home. She concluded that asking a Vulcan for help with an investigation would be out of the question.

T'Pol had even considered asking Soval for his assistance. He respected the engineer and held an affinity for humans. She thought that she might keep that option open. But right now, she needed to meditate, because her mind had once again conjured up images of her baby son, and what he might look like. He would have Trip's eyes and her ears, like Elizabeth; her mother's nose and her father's chin. He might even have Trip's hair. Suddenly, a tear escaped from T'Pol's eye. She wiped it quickly, then placed her hand to her mouth. A few more tears sprang out. Her life was truly a mess.

"Meditate," she whispered to herself. "Must meditate…control slipping." Then she took out her favorite candle, lit it and placed it on the floor in front of her mat. She placed pillows down and sat in the lotus position. But meditation would not come easily.

=/\=

Trip's Quarters

Trip looked at the hypo sprays and the medication refills Phlox had given him. There were anti-depressants, anti-anxiety and blood pressure medication, sleep aids and vitamins. There seemed to be so much of it. He shook his head as he placed his supply in their perspective cases and stuffed them into a bag. He felt like he was medicated up to his eye balls and he was embarrassed about it. He was fairly certain that as soon as he was away from Enterprise, he would dump the entire stash.

He had finished packing and everything seemed to be in order, except one thing. He would be leaving the next morning and he really felt he needed to talk to T'Pol. He had had a hard time taking to her about their relationship. Whenever he'd tried to talk about it or even tried to give it some serious thought, he was ambushed by the past; tonight was no exception.

Trip's mind drifted back to the way he had fallen all over her, practically worshipping her, and how he had made a fool of himself. He had been blindly in love with her and as a result was willing to accept just about anything she dished out. He remembered her rejection of him over and over again, and her marrying Koss. He remembered how she kept Elizabeth a secret from him and hadn't even wanted to look for their little boy. Then his anger started to well up in him.

"_Get a grip Tucker!" _he said to himself and tossed the duffel he'd just finished packing onto the floor with the rest of his things. He then leaned against his desk.

"_Just stop it with the trip down memory lane! It's not her fault you're an idiot!_ he said, and started pacing the floor. He had picked up that habit lately and did it when he was trying to put a lid on his anger. "_Okay…Okay, I gotta talk to her! Have a real conversation. She deserves to know what's going on with me. I don't want her to think I'm leaving because of her. Especially after the night we spent together. I can't leave things like this. I really need to just talk to her_."

He hesitated for a moment, thinking about what he was going to say. He also took a few deep -breaths, trying to calm himself down some more. After pacing around for a few more minutes, he finally went over to the com and pressed it.

=/\=

T'Pol's Quarters

In just a few short minutes, he was there, sitting on her bunk beside her.

"How is your arm?" she asked with concern having notice the large bandage.

"It's fine," Trip said, unwilling to get into that. "It's gettin' better every day. But I didn't come here to talk about that." She raised an eyebrow but did not respond.

"Look, I didn't mean to hurt you after…after the last night we were together. It has never been my intention to hurt you."

T'Pol didn't try to convince Trip that his actions that night hadn't hurt her, as Vulcans 'didn't experience' hurt. He knew her too well, and he had felt it though the bond. "Nor has it ever been my intention to hurt you," she stated quickly.

Trip didn't respond to that. "Well… I came to tell you that I'm not doing so well. I'm sure you've heard what happened in engineerin' a few days days ago…So, I have to go away for a while."

"Go away," she said, barely able to get her words out.

"It was Phlox and Jon's idea. Phlox has arranged everything," he said. "I'm going to a place called Zanaria Prime."

"I am familiar with it," T'Pol replied. "It is in the Beta quadrant, many light years away from Coridian and Tellar. It borders the Gamma quadrant."

"That's right," Trip said. "It's a small planet, but Phlox describes it as a tropical paradise. I'm gonna be teaching a couple of classes at the oldest and most prestigious university in their capital city…But I'm also gonna be tryin' to de-stress, to rest and relax. Phlox thinks it'll help me get a handle on things. It's a three months assignment."

"Do you feel well enough to take on such an assignment?" she asked, hoping her question didn't offend him or get him upset.

"Phlox and Jon seem to think so. I know I'm willin' to give it a shot. I've got to do _something_. I was probably gonna be kicked off the ship. So, considerin' the alternative, I didn't really feel I had anything to lose."

There was silence for a few moments.

"You asked me months ago to give the "bond shit" a rest," T'Pol said quietly. "With you being so far away, that shouldn't be a problem. We will likely not be able to sense one another. I'm sure that should afford you some additional relief."

"T'Pol I'm sorry about what I said about the bond before. It's just that learning everything about it wasn't been easy for me…along with everything else I was dealin' with. This has been the most difficult period of my life."

"I understand…it has not been easy for me either," she stated. "You were very upset when I explained that we were married. You told me that you did not want to be married to someone that you did not ask, nor had asked you. From our interactions over the last few months, it seems that has not changed. You do not wish to be married to me."

"That's not it," Trip said, furrowing his brow. "Really, it isn't. Under normal circumstances… I would love nothing more than to be married to you darlin'. I've actually dreamed of this very thing…but not like this. Not under these circumstances."

T'Pol got up and paced around in small circles. "I don't understand. You said that you wanted to sever the bond, and you've pushed me away and constantly put up barriers to block it. You've not let me in nor allowed me to help you. Yet now you say, you would love to be married to me-under a different set of circumstances. Please clarify."

"What I'm saying is that I need some time, that's all. My little human mind and my pesky emotions need time to adjust."

T'Pol stop pacing and turned and looked at him. "Trip, your mind is by no means little nor are your emotions "pesky". You have a brilliant mind and you are a person who feels things very deeply. I _do_ understand that."

The engineer smiled a bit, then rose and walked over to where she stood. "Would you give me an opportunity to adjust before we make such a major decision about whether or not we sever the bond? While I'm away, I'd like to think about it and learn as much as I can about it before we make a decision? Is that okay?"

"That is agreeable," T'Pol said, hope rising up within her, more so than she had felt in several weeks. "Besides, you need to concentrate on getting better."

Trip smiled a bit and blew out a small sigh. "Okay," he said. "That went better than I thought." He then leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "You get some rest now," he said and slowly started to back away from her toward the door. "I will uh…be in touch."

"Trip," she said. He stopped and looked at her just as he was about to let himself out. "Stay with me," she said, her eyes longing.

He hesitated, running his hand through his hair. "T'Pol…I..."

"I would like for you to hold me," she stated. "Or I would like to hold you. Nothing more… I just want us to be together on your last night here."

He stood there a moment, not speaking. Part of him wanted to bolt, but part of him really did want to just take her and pull her close to him; for things to be the way they used to be. He closed his eyes and looked away a moment, then, without another word he started to unbutton the shirt he was wearing and began to undress himself. He kicked off his shoes and kicked them to the side. She followed suit.

When they were both stripped down to their underwear, they got under the covers on her bunk and she nestled herself in his arms, her back to him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her closely, ignoring the sting of pain he felt from his injury. He kissed her on the top of her head and rubbed her arm lovingly and protectively. It had been a while since they had been like this, and it felt good, and natural…and right. But when she woke up in the middle of the night, he was gone.


	11. Chapter 11

Zanaria Prime

Trip had learned everything he could about the planet, the school and the engineering department over the three days it had taken Enterprise to get to Zanaria Prime. He had two days to settle in before classes started. It was as Phlox had said, the planet was a tropical paradise. It was small though, home to only about ten million people.

After arriving on the planet, Trip was taken to Sentral City, the Capital, where Sentral University and Hospital was located. It turned out that many species came to the planet for restoration, relaxation and healing. It was a well-known belief among many that the planet had certain healing properties. That belief was debatable among others.

Trip was nervous about this venture because he had never taught a class before, and his first attempt at doing so was on and alien planet. He was also a little anxious because part of him felt very insecure. Phlox had questioned his stability, but still had sanctioned his taking this assignment. The doctor had seen it as an opportunity for the engineer to relax in a different environment, while keeping busy by doing something he loved. So, Trip had decided within himself that he would do everything he could to make this work. If it didn't, he really didn't know what he was going to do.

He was being housed in a spacious apartment on campus, where many of the staff members lived. The accommodations reminded him of a luxurious hotel suite. He settled in and started to review the syllabus for his classes. He had four, two on Advanced Warp theory, three times a week, Practical Application and the Science of Transporter Technology, both twice weekly. Trip's interest was peaked immediately. He sat up most of the night reading the transporter tech manuals. He'd of course taken the classes at Starfleet Academy and had learned a few things about the transporter since they'd been out in space, but whether he knew enough to teach on it was another question. And, even though he was a bit anxious, he found himself feeling a little excited as well at the possibilities. He hadn't felt excited about anything in a long time.

=/\=

Trip had arrived early to his classroom to check it out, then he surveyed the simulation room, where his class would be practicing their craft. A few students wandered in and introduced themselves so he made sure his universal translator was working. On Zenaria Prme, you had it injected right under your skin in your wrist. He really was interested in seeing that technology.

Suddenly two students approached him, a young Zenarian male and female. At least half of his students were natives, the other half were from various places throughout the quadrant. Adult Zenarians were oddly, all the same height 5'10". They all had the same color hair as well, black with a white streak down the center. Trip had to work very hard not see a skunk every time he looked at one of the natives. They also had a very distinct marking on their foreheads called a velora lobe. He had found out that it was the center of their emotions and would light up, glow or hum when they experienced them.

"Professor Tucker," the young man said. "Good morning, I am called Ise'net-Tryrellius. I am very excited to be a part of your class."

"And I am Xy'ehna-Itallia," the female sated. "I too am excited to be here.

"Well thank you uh," Trip smiled. "Okay, I'm still learning' how to pronounce Zenarian names, so in the meantime, is there something shorter you guys are called?

"I'm called Itallia," the female said.

"Itallia. That's a beautiful name," Trip smiled causing the young woman's forehead to light up a bit.

"So, you're _Tyrellius_?" Trip asked the young man.

"Yes, but you may call me Tyrell," he said grinning.

"Tyrell it is then," Trip replied. "I hope you'll find the class interestin' and challengin'."

"I'm sure that we will," the young man replied.

The students turned away as Tyrell jabbed his classmate in the side. "Your velora was beaming," he whispered, referring to the emotion center on her forehead.

"I know! I'm so embarrassed," she whispered back. "But I didn't realize he was going to be so charming and handsome." Then they both sat in the front row, right in front of the lectern.

As other students entered so did a Vulcan woman, who looked middle aged for a Vulcan, but she was very attractive.

"Professor Tucker," she said. "I am Dr. E'Vaine. I thought I'd come over and introduce myself."

Trip was taken aback a bit. He recognized the name, but he wasn't expecting this. "Oh," he said trying to hide his surprise. "Phlox's friend. You're the one who told him about this opportunity. So, I guess I owe you a big thanks."

"No, that's not necessary," E'vaine replied, clearly seeing the surprise on his face. "But you don't have to look so shocked either. I know that you've seen a Vulcan before."

Trip laughed a little. "I'm sorry. I have seen Vulcans before, it's just that, well…Phlox didn't mention it," the engineer said. "I wasn't expecting to see any Vulcans way out here, that's all. But anyway, I'm Charles Tucker, III and it's great to meet you."

Trip didn't offer his hand to shake as he was aware that Vulcans didn't like to be touched. But he was surprised when E'Vaine extended her hand to him.

"I am familiar with human customs," she said with a small smile. Trip took her hand and shook it, and tried not to react to her demeanor too much.

"I am having a gathering in the staff lounge this evening in my wing to greet the new members of the university for the term. I hope you will attend," she said.

"I'll plan to be there," the engineer said. "Looking forward."

The doctor left and Trip went about the business of meeting his class.

=/\=

Later.

Trip attended the meet and greet hosted by E'Vaine. He introduced himself to several people but was pleasantly surprised to meet a young woman from of all places, United Earth.

"Mr. Tucker, I'm Nelia Acosta," she said as she offered him a drink. "E'Vaine told me about you. I can't begin to tell you how good it is to meet someone from back home way out here."

"Oh wow!" Trip began with a smile. "She didn't mention anything to me. This place is full of surprises! Where you from?"

"Chicago," she grinned, "you?"

"Florida," he said, you know before the Xindi."

"The Xindi?" she replied oddly.

"You've never heard of the Xindi?" he asked, then realized that the young woman really didn't know about the attack on Earth a few years ago. "How long you been out here?" he asked.

"Nine years," she replied. "What about these Xindi?"

"Oh uh, never mind. I'll tell you about it another time. So, what are you teachin'?'" he asked changing the subject.

"I work here," Nelia answered, "but I'm not faculty. I'm Assistant to E'Vaine. I kinda help her out with whatever she needs."

"Oh," Trip replied. "We'll have to tell each other the story of how we ended up way out here one of these days."

"That would be fabulous," she grinned. "We can have lunch one day or get a coffee, at least something similar to it."

"It's a date," Trip said with a smile. "Just let me know when and where."

"I will Professor," the young woman said. "But, let me get back to work. I'll see you around."

Trip waived her off and stared after her for a moment. Then E'Vaine walked up to him.

"I see you met Neila," she said holding her drink.

Trip took a sip of his. "What's this called again?" he asked.

"Zenarian Ale Water", she replied.

"It reminds me of White Wine," he said. "But at the same time, it's like a light beer. I think I like it." He drained his glass as another faculty member walked up.

"Professor," the man with the native hair and velora on his forehead said. "I am Dr. Crelann. I am the Associate Dean of Engineering."

"It's good to meet you," Trip responded. "Dean Bronski tried to introduce us the other day when he was showin' me around. We came by your office, but we missed you."

"I'm glad you will be with us for a while," the man said. "I understand that you met Tyrell. He is a remarkable young man. He is quite gifted, uh, perhaps a little overzealous at times, but he is a delight to have in class. A joy to teach."

"That's good to know," Trip said in response. "I can't wait to get to know him, all of the students really."

"Well I trust this experience will be rewarding for you as well. Have a good evening," he said. "Dr. E'Vaine," he said and left them.

Trip then turned his attention back to the Vulcan. "Yeah, I met Neila," he started. "I never thought I'd be meetin' up with another human out here. "Guess I been under the mis-guided assumption that no humans had traveled into space further than Enterprise."

"You'd be surprised how many species we encounter here at SenU", she answered. "Nelia's been here longer than you've been in space."

"Yeah I was kinda surprised," Trip admitted. "She didn't even know about the Xindi attack on Earth a few years back. Said she hasn't been home in nine years. We're gonna get together so I can catch her up on a few things."

E'Vaine looked down for a moment, and Trip thought he sensed something.

"It's not like that," he said seriously. "The last thing I need is to get involved with a woman

while I'm here."

"Oh, I was not thinking that," E'Vaine replied. "I was just wondering if Neila told you one of her wild tales, that's all."

"Wild tales?" Trip frowned. "All she said was she was your Assistant, and that we should go to lunch or get a drink somewhere. Something wrong with that?"

"No," she said in return. "I'd just be careful with her. She's one of my patients. I allow her as well as others to assist me from time to time. Work helps many of them- as part of their treatment. It gives them a sense of duty and self-worth. It also allows them to mingle with others and be a part of something."

"Nelia's your patient!" Trip said, really surprised. "Why? What's wrong with her?"

"You know I can't discuss that," E'Vaine replied. "But as I said, be careful with her, she is very ill and she cannot leave these grounds. So, if you want to spend time with her, it will have to be somewhere on campus, in or near the confines of the hospital. She is not just a patient, she has been granted asylum here, and she cannot leave this place."

"Asylum?" Trip said astonished. Then he looked in Neila's direction, watching her for a few moments.

"I can't tell you to not spend time with her. Actually, it may do her good to hear of her homeland. You may be the closest she ever gets to it again. Pardon me," she said then the doctor walked away and started to greet other guest. By that time someone else was introducing themselves to Trip. But he continued to steal glances at Neila for the rest of the evening.

=/\=

Two Weeks Later.

It had been two weeks and Trip was settling in at the University and really enjoying his classes, more than he could have anticipated. He spent little time lecturing in favor of showing his students how to take a warp engine apart and allowing them to see and handle the parts as he explained what each one did. He then let them participate in putting the engine back together. Later, they would form teams and repeat the process on their own, then write a paper on the experience. The students were intrigued by their new professor and excited being a part of his class. He was the talk of the entire department.

Trip really liked most of his students, but there was one that he was particular fond of, Tyrellius. He thought he saw a little of himself in him. Trip quickly assessed that this kid was brilliant and would do great things some day in the near future. He would stay after class and ask a ton of questions and he and the engineer would talk sometimes for an hour or more about ideas and new innovations as it related to the field.

He approached Trip one afternoon at lunch at one of the café's on campus.

"Professor Tucker, would it be too presumptuous of me if I asked if I could join you?" the young man asked holding a tray and looking hopeful.

"Oh no," Trip replied gesturing for the Zenarian to sit down. "Sure, have a seat."

Tyrell smiled and eagerly sat. "I see you have chosen the Val wrap and salada, a good choice."

"Yeah, I thought it would be a challenge to get used to the food here," Trip said. "But most of it hasn't disrupted my system at all. My ship's doctor gave me some meds to help me adapt and to counteract any allergic reactions or anything more serious than a stomachache. But so far, I've only had to use it twice."

"What was the offending meals?" Tyrell asked.

"Something called adason, a fruit that reminded me of something we call strawberries back home. They were really good, but later on I felt like I'd eaten a bunch of razor blades." The student laughed a little. "Then there was uh, jacksin- I think it's called."

"Jacocasin," Tyrell corrected.

"Well, it may as well have been poison ivy!" Trip said.

"Poison Ivy?"

"It's a plant back home on Earth that causes your skin to break out real bad, itch and burn like hell. Anyway, I had a similar reaction to the jacocasin. It seemed a lot like what we call spinach back home, but I was unpleasantly surprised. It did not agree with me and I had to use two hypo sprays within a three-hour span!"

"I am sorry. I hope you did not suffer too much."

"Naw, I'm just a little more cautious now." They continued to eat for a few moments.

"I am really enjoying the class," Tyrell said. "I love the warp engine. If it were a female, I'd life lock with it."

"Life lock?" Trip asked.

"You know, mate for life," the Tyrell replied. "What do you call your life ritual between mates?"

"Marriage," the engineer replied.

"And are you marraiged, professor?"

"No, I'm not married," Trip said. Then he immediately thought about what T'Pol had told him about the bond, that they were bonded for life and married by Vulcan standards. "Well, on second thought, I think maybe I am married."

"Wouldn't you know it if you were?"

"It's complicated," Trip said, wondering how much he wanted to share with his student. "My lady friend and I are different species, and have different rules and rituals about marriage. We got our wires crossed and didn't communicate very well and as a result, kinda got married unintentionally. It's actually kinda funny when you think about it."

"On Zenaria Prime, couples cannot accidentally become life locked. It is a very precise process."

"Really?" Trip replied. "So, what's involved in the process?"

"Males and females are matched according to our velora lobe," he said as he pointed to the marking on his forehead. "It will light or hum when we are near someone we are attracted to or compatible with. If one decides to lock, we press them together and it allows us to share thoughts and feelings. Then we mate. If we decide to life lock, there is a locking ceremony and the ritual is completed by 72 hours of continued mating."

"Seventy-two hours!" Trip replied. "You mean, you do this for 72 hours? Non-stop?"

"Once you are sufficiently locked, the ritual cannot be broken. The couple is intertwined and in a deep meditative state, learning about one another. It is very erotic."

"Sounds exhaustin'. Don't you get tired? I mean, a human male can't go 72 hours non-stop. I've never met anybody who could!"

"It is not tiredsome," the young man said. "The velora lobe is joined as well as genitalia. There is no work involved, it is a trance-like state and you are bound together."

"Damn!" Trip said. "That beats all I've ever heard."

They talked more about various other subjects and ended up back in the engineering department in the simulation room. There, they traded ideas about warp engines for several hours.

=/\=

Trip met Neila for a drink one evening in the tavern on campus. They talked about Earth, their

families and Zenaria. Oddly, however, Neila never mentioned that she was a patient and Trip didn't ask. On another day they planned to meet for lunch and he hoped to learn more about her. He was intrigued by what E'Vaine had told him and couldn't imagine being stuck on an alien planet for the rest of his life.

He met his fellow Earthling for lunch in the visitor's cafeteria for the patients on the psych ward of the hospital. When he sat down at a table to wait for her, two people he didn't know, sat on either side of him as if they were old friends. A Zenarian woman, and from what Trip could tell, the male was Iryillian.

"Hey" the male said leaning into Trip, "What's your level?"

Trip gave the young man a hard look and he backed up. "My level?" he asked

"You know, for watch-care," the man said as if Trip should know what that meant. "For risk, for meds."

Trip then realized they must be patients. "I'm not a patient, so I don't have a level. I'm just meetin' somebody for a visit."

"But of course," the Iryillian said. "I think you may be at medium. I can guess levels on most anybody."

"Whatever," Trip said. "Medium it is then."

"That's good, that's good," the woman said very quickly, shaking with anxiety. "We're both maximum."

"And when you're at max, they give you this," other alien, pointing to the back of his neck. "Responder chip."

"Yeah, if you try anything, you get zapped," his companion said with a slight tremble.

"Zapped?" Trip asked. "With what?"

"A chemical that causes your whole body to go into protective mode. It'll fight off a poison or an overdose. Protects your heart from going into cardiac arrest, and your blood stream from absorbing anything harmful."

"Really?" Trip replied.

"Then you get transported right to the infirmary," added. "But we been working on a plan. A way to do it," she whispered. "Wanna hear about it?"

"Not especially," the engineer said.

"Well, don't you want to do it?" the male asked. "Everybody does, they just pretend like they don't so they don't get the chip."

"No, I'm not really looking for a way to off myself just yet," Trip responded sarcastically. "But if I change my mind, I'll let ya know."

Just then Neila arrived. "Alright, that's enough!" she said firmly. "You know you're not supposed to be in here unless you're waiting for a guest, so buzz off!"

The two scurried away. Trip watched as they went.

"Should I let somebody know what those two were talkin' about?" he asked.

"No, they're fine. They're just both nuts! But don't worry, those responder chips do what they're supposed to if there's a problem."

Trip turned and looked again at the two aliens as they approached someone else.

"I'm sorry for having to meet here," Neila said as she sat down. "I should have told you my status before now. But it was just so good to talk to someone from home that I didn't want to scare you away. I mean, if you knew I was a patient, you might not wanna talk to me or be my friend."

"Neila," Trip started. "You don't have to apologize. It's not a problem."

"So, you're not mad…or ashamed to be seen with me?"

"Of course not," he smiled. "Forget about all that. We're two people from the same home planet out in deep space that happened to run into one another by chance. I never in a million years would have predicted that! That's crazy!"

I know, right," Neila laughed. "All the way from Chicago and the great state of Florida. I mean, who knew?"

"So, can we get food now," Trip asked. "I really am starvin' and I have a class in a little over an hour way on the other side of campus."

The two new friends got lunch and talked. Trip shared with her how he came to be on Zenaria, that he was there to de-stress, rest and relax, while teaching as a Visiting Professor in Engineering. He also told her about the Xindi attack on Earth, which saddened his friend deeply.

In turned she shared with Trip how she came to be on Zenaria Prime It turned out that she had murdered her husband on the planet Draylax. Apparently, the atmosphere poisoned her brain and she went mad. She was to be executed for her crimes, but a kind guard at the prison who knew of her situation and abhorred the death penalty, helped to smuggle her out on a cargo ship. She was dropped off on Zanaria Prime and given asylum. She was also treated for her mental illness, but retained no memory of her life on Draylax or what she had done. However, if she left Zanaria Prime, she could be discovered and returned to Draylax to face execution.

Trip was absolutely floored by what he'd learned. He didn't tell her, but in his mind and heart, he vowed to help her. He would have to speak to Captain Archer about this young woman and devise a way to get her home.

=/\=

That Evening.

Trip felt pretty good about the way things were going. Even though he was saddened about Neila's story, he still felt good about where he was, emotionally, at the moment. He didn't feel anxious or overcome with sadness about his life. Malcolm had assured him that he was gaining ground in the search for his son and he trusted what Malcolm had told him. Trip hadn't even had an occasion to feel angry, and that was progress in his book. He felt good enough to tell somebody about it too. So, he sat down at his computer and sent T'Pol a message.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: **_Hello to All! Thanks for your continued support!

I made a lot of errors in the last chapter and therefore, have solicited the help of a beta reader. A shout out to LoyaulteMeLie for her excellent reading eye, suggestions and overall assistance! I hope you enjoy this installment! Bri

* * *

**Dust and Ashes**

_Enterprise_, Four Weeks Later. _The Bridge_

"Captain, I'm getting a comm from the Vulcan ship _Tel'ker_," Hoshi announced.

"_Tel'ker_?" Jon asked. "It's been a long time since we've heard from them. Put 'em through." A few moments later, a regal looking Vulcan male appeared on the view screen.

"Captain Archer, it is agreeable to see you again," the Vulcan said.

"Likewise," Jon replied. "What can I do for you captain V'Lance?"

"There has been a development. Ambassador Soval's transport vessel arrived on Vulcan and brought Administrator Xypec home safely. The vessel then proceeded to rendezvous with the Andorian ship and the Tellarite Cruiser to deliver several young children as agreed."

"Yes, the Ambassador was quite gracious in his offer to transport those children," Jon responded. "I am indebted to him. Is there a problem?"

"Yes," V'Lance said. "The Ambassador's vessel was to arrive back on Vulcan five days later. He never made it."

"What?" Jon was startled and concerned. "You mean you haven't heard from him in all this time?"

"No. We have been investigating the matter. However, turning up no leads, we thought it prudent to contact you. We believe the Ambassador has been kidnapped."

"Oh no. I am so sorry to hear that! How can we help?"

"You were very successful in helping to locate and rescue Administrator Xypec. We are asking that you assist once again. That you use your resources to assist with a search and rescue near the Orion Syndicate."

"We are at your disposal." The chance to help out the Vulcans, who had so often been the ones to offer it, was not one the captain could or would pass up, even apart from his real regard for the ambassador himself. "I'll contact my Chief of Security and we can all meet in my ready room in one hour."

"That would be agreeable." The Vulcan ended the comm.

"Get Malcolm for me," Jon said to Hoshi.

=/\=

_Malcolm's Quarters._

"I expected more," the Brit said, frowning. "Your organization is supposed to be the best at what you do. But you haven't provided me with anything new. I've had to string Commander Tucker along now for several weeks. He's anxious to know something and I don't like lying to him."

"These things take time," Harris said. "You need to be patient."

"It's already been six months since I first discovered the existence of the Commanders' son. I need to know what happened to him so we can put this thing to rest once and for all."

"Have you considered that there is nothing new to learn?" the spymaster asked. "Maybe the Starfleet investigation and your own investigation got it right. That the child was already dead when Paxton's lab was shut down. That his remains had already been disposed of."

"That doesn't tell me how he died," the Brit spat. "I want to know exactly what happened! Did he die of natural causes or did one of Paxton's loyal followers kill him? How were his remains disposed of? I want to know exactly who the individual was who handled the matter!"

"You're rather passionate about this child," Harris remarked, raising his eyebrows. "What do your friends expect to gain by knowing the truth? You and I both know that these type things are often ugly and that some things are best left hidden. They're probably better off not knowing."

His old handler's sly reminder that they had once been on the same side raised Malcolm's hackles.

"I'll be the judge of what the Commanders are better off knowing or not knowing. I just need whoever the hell you have on this to get the bloody job done!"

"You may need to come home and lead the investigation yourself; knock some heads together; leave a lasting impression on a few people," Harris grinned on the view screen. "You're the best I ever saw at that game."

The compliment made his skin crawl, though he still couldn't prevent a frisson of pride at hearing it said; it had been the truth, for all that he wasn't proud of the things he'd done when he'd been Harris's attack dog. Fearing that the spymaster was still far too acute not to sense both reactions, he tried to keep his tone even. "If I weren't so far away, and had other obligations, I would do just that. But since I'm not available, I have to rely on you."

"And have I ever failed you?" Harris asked smugly. "–Don't answer that," he added quickly, with another grin.

"Just keep me posted," the Englishman said shortly, and ended the comm. Before he could move away, he receive a call from the bridge.

"Mr. Reed," the captain began, "meet me in my ready room in one hour. I've just received word that Ambassador Soval has been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped sir?"

"Yes, according to V'Lance. He's here and Vulcan is asking for our help in the search and rescue."

"I'll be there sir," Malcom replied. With a mental snap he closed one file and opened another; that was the way a Section 31 spy operated.

It seemed his past was nowhere near as far away from him as he'd hoped.

=/\=

_Sick Bay._

"Commander Tucker is adjusting well," E'Vaine told Phlox over the view screen. "He is a natural at teaching and the students love him."

"Well now, that is good news," the Denobulan said. "No angry outbursts or volatile behavior to speak of?"

"No, he is as calm as you or I," the Vulcan reported.

Phlox made notes. "Have you been able to convince him to participate in any therapy sessions?"

"No. I have not pressed the issue. I'm giving him a little space and just watching from afar. I will approach him when the time is right or if there is any sign of a problem."

"I must say, I was skeptical about this approach." Phlox frowned, thinking hard. "It was largely the captain's idea and given the fact that Mr. Tucker was not open to any other treatment methods, I went along with it. Though I did provide him with the necessary supply of medication, I had no confidence he would actually take it. But perhaps the captain was right and I was wrong after all. Perhaps the Commander did simply need some time away."

"Come now doctor," E'Vaine replied. "We both know that depression does not typically cure itself and certainly not within a matter of weeks. If Commander Tucker is in the condition you say he is in, it is only a matter of time before his illness manifests itself again. Perhaps when the newness of the environment and the job wears off."

"Perhaps." Phlox was still unconvinced, but willing to admit the argument for the time being. "But time away does seem to be helping. And I am certain that in due time, you will gain his trust and be there to assist him if and when his condition raises its ugly head."

"I am here to serve," the Vulcan replied. "I will check in with you again soon." Then she was gone.

=/\=

T'Pol had been excited when she received a communication from Trip. She was very deliberate in her response back to him. Now, they seemed to be communicating at least once a week. That had given her a lot of hope and strengthened her resolve to move forward with her current project.

She had spent countless hours poring over Starfleet's and Malcolm's report of the Terra Prime investigation. She had also swallowed her Vulcan pride and contacted her old colleague at the V'Shar. She had set aside his snide comments and attitude about her involvement with a Human. It was worth it, to find out what had happened to her and Trip's son. She was making notes when she received a comm. It was Calden, her contact.

"T'Pol, it is agreeable to speak to you," the Vulcan said.

"Likewise," T'Pol responded. "You have news?"

"Yes," Calden replied. "It appears that someone else has been asking questions about the child."

"Someone else? That would be illogical." She frowned. "Why would anyone else have an interest in this matter?"

"What of your mate, the Human?"

"His name is _Commander_ Charles Tucker," T'Pol stated emphatically, annoyed.

The Vulcan nodded. "Perhaps _Commander_ Tucker, has launched his own search. Someone has been to see John Paxton in the Earth prison within the last month. Someone has also visited the domestic and Paxton's only surviving guard from his mining colony. They specifically asked questions about the infant: Who cared for him? When was the last time they saw him alive? Who would have been responsible for destroying the medical lab where the child was created?"

"I see." She pondered. "It is curious that someone else would be investigating this matter. However, I cannot say whether Commander Tucker is involved. Nevertheless, please proceed with _your_ investigation. You may well cross paths with this individual at some point. Learn whatever you can about them, please, but take care not to alert them that you are aware of their activities. We may be able to use them for our purposes."

The Vulcan gave the ta'al and T'Pol returned it. Then they cut the communication.

Returning to her notes, T'Pol thought about what she had learned. She wouldn't be surprised if Trip had hired an investigator. As a previous member of the V'Shar herself she knew that there was a possibility that this 'individual' might have interests and aims of her own, but she could not imagine who this might be or what they might hope to gain. It almost certainly _was _someone Trip had hired to work on his behalf when he was away on Zanaria Prime. Perhaps the answers they were seeking would be forthcoming at some time in the very near future.

=/\=

_Zanaria Prime __E'Vaine's House_

Trip was really enjoying his new gig. He'd had no idea how much fun shaping bright, eager young minds would be. He actually felt relaxed too. Phlox had been right about the planet; its beauty and near perfect weather most of the time was having a positive effect on him. He loved basking in the sun or running on the beach. Sometimes he'd just sit out on the balcony of his apartment at night and enjoy a drink while he listened to the waves beating against the rocks. If it was a really nice night, he'd take a swim, in the buff. Everybody did it and it was apparently no big deal. A couple of the other instructors had convinced him to join them rock climbing. He had never really been into that, but he'd gone just to be sociable and found out he really liked it.

In addition to being able to relax, he had made a couple of friends, Neila and E'Vaine. On this particular evening E'Vaine had made dinner for several of her colleagues. Trip had offered to stay and help her clean-up, which of course she accepted. Any opportunity she had to talk to him alone, up till this point, she'd taken it. And they'd had a lot of conversations by now. She'd shared a great deal of personal information about herself, and he'd done so in return.

They had finished the dishes and were sitting out on her patio watching the sunset over the water.

"This view is so mesmerizing," Trip said. "I could stay out here forever watching that sun."

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" E'Vaine smiled. "It gives me a feeling of peace and contentment. I count myself very fortunate."

"Now see that's what blows my mind about you," Trip said placing his glass on the table between them.

"What do you mean?"

"The way you express emotions like it's no big deal. You're talking about how beautiful something is and your feelings about it. I'm just not used to that with Vulcans."

"Trip, you know that Vulcans are not without emotion. Most just believe and have been taught to suppress them."

"And you claim you're not V'tosh ka'tur?" he said with a puzzled look on his face.

"No, for the last time," E'Vaine laughed. "I have not completely rejected logic. I just don't believe the sun rises and sets on it either."

"You smile and you laugh," the engineer said, wondering. "You even make jokes. I love the way you're able to do that. It's really refreshin'."

"You could say I'm different from most of my people," the Vulcan nodded, placing her glass down. "My father raised me to express myself freely as well as to experience emotion, but he also taught me to meditate, and to suppress my emotions when it was necessary. I have simply learned how to balance logic and emotions."

Trip looked away for a moment.

E'Vaine clearly noticed the look of sadness that he was unable to prevent. "Did I say something wrong?" she asked with concern.

"Oh no," Trip replied. "It's just, what you said reminded me of Lorien. That's all."

"Your son from the past." She glanced across at him. "And you got to meet him. I still find the whole story of time travel very fascinating."

"And you never even said that 'the Vulcan Science Directorate has concluded that time travel is impossible'," Trip droned.

They both laughed.

"I wish you could have seen Lorien," he went on, smiling. "He was half human and half Vulcan and he was a hundred and one years old! Three times older'n I was! It was the craziest thing! He had my eyes and his mother's ears! And he expressed emotion too. I got to see him smile. It was so weird, but wonderful! He said he'd learned to balance emotion and logic. You remind me of him in that way."

"Oh," E'Vaine replied with a small smile of her own, "you're sure it is not because I am one hundred and six years old, three times older than you?"

Trip spat out his drink, and she laughed.

"I'm sorry," he said wiping his mouth. "You're, a hundred and six! Damn it, woman, I would have sworn that you were maybe around the same age as Captain Archer in Earth years. He just turned fifty recently. I mean, you look like you may be about forty-nine-fifty…but a really beautiful forty-nine-fifty."

E'Vaine gave him a look.

He colored. He hadn't meant to be quite so outspoken about how attractive she was. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not offending you. I was trying to compliment you. You know everybody thinks you're really hot."

"'Really hot'?" she said tilting her head and furrowing her brow.

"Beautiful! Sexy! Aw, damn!" He blushed worse than ever. Wasn't he supposed to be a Southern gentleman? "E'Vaine, please don't take what I'm saying the wrong way. I'm really not sexist and I'm not tryin' to come on to you!"

"It is alright." The Vulcan laughed again. "I didn't think that at all, and I am not offended. I have lived a long time and lived on many different worlds. I have had lived among dozens of species and experienced their cultures. That is why your story of Lorien does not shock me. I just wish you could think of him, and all of your children, without it causing you so much pain."

She hesitated, watching him. If it hadn't been unthinkable, he'd have believed she was hoping to bait him into discussing this subject a little further.

He hung his head a moment and then sat back in his chair, from where he stared out at the water for a few moments. "_My_ children," he repeated. "None of which I consented to having, nor knew about…"

"Is that why it is so difficult to discuss them?" E'Vaine said. If she hadn't been a friend, he'd have thought she was pushing the issue, but he decided that it was just the Vulcan problem with handling emotions.

He didn't answer quickly. At first, he wasn't sure he was going to respond at all. "I guess so," he finally said. "That and the fact that when I _did_ find out about 'em…I didn't get to know 'em…have them be a part of my life. At least I know Malcolm is doing what he can, to look for the one that's missing." He threw back his drink and looked into the empty glass for a few moments.

"You know I have to fight every instinct within me sometimes, not to just get the hell out of here and start lookin' myself! I feel like I'm failin' him, givin' up on him. I feel like _I _should be doing something!"

"Trip, we've been over this," the Vulcan said. "It's best to let the professionals handle it. Besides in order to take on such an endeavor you would need to be at your best self. You said you came here to rest and restore yourself. Concentrate on that for now."

"I know what you're sayin' makes sense. I'm not an investigator. I wouldn't even know where to begin. I just can't stop thinkin' about him, though. Sometimes, I can't stop myself from thinkin' about any of them, what they would look like now, how big they've gotten. Lorien excluded of course. I was referrin' to Elizabeth, my son, and my little girl."

"Little girl?" E'Vaine asked. "What little girl are you speaking of? Is there still another child out there?"

"No," Trip said quickly. "Of course not…I meant Elizabeth and my son."

"You said, Elizabeth, my son and my little girl." E'Vaine was watching Trip but he didn't say anything. She probably sensed something here and thought this might be an opportunity to get him to talk about a subject that haunted him. One that after all this time, he still had not fully come to terms with.

"You are speaking of the Xyrillian baby," she finally said. "Aren't you?"

The doctor suspected that this incident was the beginning of the engineer's troubles, in the way that childhood traumas affected many people well into adult life. That he had deep seeded issues surrounding it that he had never dealt with.

"I…I guess…I – I don't know!" Trip stammered. "I mean, she was a part of me for a while…so, I can't just completely write her off, can I?"

"So, you do regard her as your child?" E'Vaine asked.

This inquisition was starting to make Trip feel uncomfortable. "What's all these questions about that kid? What are you getting' at?"

"I am just trying to understand what you are saying and what you are feeling. You told me previously that the Xyrillian baby was not your biological child. That you couldn't wait to get rid of her."

"She wasn't my biological child! And I never said I wanted to get rid of her!"

"Perhaps not in those exact words," the Vulcan said, challenging his increasing frustration and growing anger – not just with her, but with everything that had happened; with life itself, the way it had all gotten totally screwed. "Trip, I am not judging you. I'm just trying to get you to be honest with me, and with yourself."

"Ok, fine! Let me be honest! That whole thing was completely screwed up! I'm a man, I should have never been pregnant! So, yeah, I was glad I didn't have to deliver the damn thing! But that doesn't mean I wanted to kill her! Shit, I carried her for two whole weeks until we found her damned mama!"

His companion leaned back. "Why are you shouting?" she asked calmly.

Trip then grabbed the bottle of liquor they had been drinking from, but instead of pouring himself another glass, he tossed the glass he was drinking from across the patio, shattering it, against the pavement causing his host to jump a little. He then turned the bottle up and drank from it directly.

She just stared at him.

Unable to bear her calm regard any longer, he leaped from his seat and threw the bottle out towards the water, and stood there shaking. The sun had gone, and the wind was cold, and everything had changed, everything was spoiled.

The Vulcan was still watching him. She'd never seen this side of him; he'd never had cause to show it to her. "Why are you so angry?" she finally asked.

"I'm not angry!" he shouted, facing her. "I knew it was a mistake tellin' you about this shit! I don't talk about this stuff you know, with anybody! I just want to forget about it! Tell you what, I'm just gonna go!" He turned to leave.

"You do not have to leave," she said, rising and moving in front of him. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I am sorry if overstepped my boundaries. I thought we were just talking as friends. We can change the subject, but please sit back down."

Trip hesitated for a moment, then slowly sat back down. They sat silently for a few minutes as he fiddled with his hands and got his anger under control. "I'm sorry," he muttered at last. "For breakin' your glass and throwin' that bottle away. I'll go get it."

"No, please. Don't worry about it."

"I really didn't mean to yell at you and act like a…stupid jerk. I have no right to be angry with you, you didn't do anything but listen to my sorry ass sob story."

"Apology accepted," she said softly. "I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to upset you with my questions. I meant what I said though, you do not have to talk about anything you do not wish to."

Then there was more silence for several long minutes. If she hadn't been a Vulcan, he would have suspected from her slightly anxious glances that she thought she'd blown it.

"I just wish I'd known that becoming telepathic with Ah'len's was gonna leave me holdin' the baby!" he finally blurted out. "When I told her about it, she tried to apologize. I told her it was okay and I just wanted to give her, her child back. Acted like I wasn't pissed off. I could kick myself for not sayin' what I was really thinkin."

"And what was that?' E'Vaine asked.

But Trip looked away and did not answer. He wasn't ready to be that open yet, not even with her.

"I want to say something to you, but I don't want to upset you," she said.

Trip just continued staring out at the water. Couldn't she just take a hint?

With the deep breath of someone taking a risk, the Vulcan forged ahead anyway.

"I have a feeling I know what you really wanted to say to Ah'len and why you are still so angry about this. And, I think you do too." Still there was no response. "Look at me for a moment," she said.

Trip slowly raised his eyes to meet hers as he fiddled with his hands nervously.

"You are still angry with Ah'len because she raped you," the Vulcan said firmly.

This hit into a spot so raw he hadn't even touched it himself. "No, no, it wasn't like that!" he protested frantically.

"Yes, it was _just_ like that! She performed an act with you that she had to know was a mating ritual. She did not tell you that. She was attracted to you and she knew you were attracted to her."

"No, she didn't! I willingly participated! I was just a stupid, ignorant, fool!"

"The woman said she didn't think you could get pregnant because you were an alien. It proves that while you were willingly participating in one thing, she was participating in something entirely different. She sexually assaulted you!"

"I brought it on myself," he said through his teeth.

"Listen to yourself!" E'Vaine said exasperated. "You are _not_ responsible for what happened to you on that alien ship! And the truth is, you are still angry about it because you know you were violated yet you have never admitted it to yourself! This thing has a lot of power over you, you know that?"

Trip did not respond – he couldn't – he just sat there staring at the ground, but she wasn't about to let this moment pass by.

"I think it is why you have such difficulty when you think someone has lied to you or manipulated you. I think it is why you feel so betrayed and hurt by some of the people in your life and why you can't get past it."

Trip still did not look at her or respond. His eyes were still glued to the ground, his brain churning.

She leaned closer to him. "Alright," she began. "Let me ask you this…what if you had done to Ah'len what she did to you?"

He still didn't answer, but she was getting through to him. His defenses were crumbling and he couldn't hold them up.

"What if you had told her that you wanted to play a game with her that was going to make you both feel really good," the Vulcan continued fiercely. "That you would just get a wonderful feeling of euphoria, but no big deal. Then you proceeded to have sex with her and she became pregnant with your child?"

Trip's eyes were still fixed on the ground as he was still unable to meet E'Vaine's. He hesitated for a long moment. "When you put it like that, it sounds totally different." A long pause. "I-I would have been court martialed I imagine," he finally said softly. "If I'd gotten somebody to…have sex with me…even if I didn't think they'd get pregnant…somebody who didn't know any better…and I didn't tell 'em what was really happenin', what _could_ happen… then it did… It would have been criminal."

She then reached over and covered one of his hands with hers. "It _was_ criminal Trip. It was a terrible, horrible, violation that you have never acknowledged as such. What's equally disturbing is that no one else has either!"

Trip suddenly turned very red and his hands, clasped in front of him, started to tremble. His anger was rising again. She had struck a nerve, and the unacknowledged bitterness was starting to well up inside him.

"They either thought I was lyin' about what happened or that it was funny, or, or something excitin' to study! Nobody ever asked me how the hell _I_ felt about it!... And I felt like a damned idiot! I was so embarrassed; humiliated!"

There was silence for a few moments.

"Afterwards, I never felt the same," he continued. "I started feeling insecure, like I had to prove myself all the time. Sure, I strutted around like I had it all together, but deep down, that experience did somethin' to me that I can't explain - it took somethin' from me."

"Did people treat you differently?" the Vulcan asked.

"No," he replied. "But you have to understand, this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me at the time. I just wanted to forget about it, forget about her. But I haven't been able to. And I think it's because on top of everything else, she…she could have been my child."

"But Phlox said she didn't have your DNA, that you were just a host."

"How could he be sure? He'd never dealt with anything like this before."

"And if she was – _is_ your child, that means you abandoned her, correct?"

Trip didn't say anything for a moment. "I am really fucked up, aren't I," he finally mumbled.

E'Vaine got up from where she was sitting, came over and knelt down in front of him. She lifted his chin so she could look at him in the face.

"Listen to me," she said, "that's a lot for anyone to go through. It was an unprecedented situation and you had no one's support. You were alone through the entire process. And then the fact that you have thoughts and feelings about it that you've never shared with anyone, is very powerful. _Secrets_ are very powerful. I understand why you are angry about it – because you're right, Ah'len took something from you that she had no right to take: your right to choose, your dignity, your self-respect and I imagine in your mind, your manhood. I just hope that at some point, you can take it all back; that you can find a way to deal with all of your losses, and move forward. Because this anger you have allowed to build up inside of you is dangerous. It will destroy you if you let it."

"I'll be okay," Trip said, brushing his hands over his face. "Talkin' about it with you helps a lot, it really does. You've let me say a lot of things I never thought I'd say out loud to anybody. Thanks. But, hey, it's getting' late," he said, "I'm tired and I'm sure you are too. So, let me get outta here so you can get to bed. Thanks again for listenin'."

"Anytime my friend," E'Vaine replied. "Let me walk you to the door." Then they rose and she walked him back through the house and to the front door and watched him leave in the hover car he was driving.

=/\=

"Good session," E'Vaine said out loud when he was gone. "_Now_, we're getting somewhere."


	13. Chapter 13

Search and Rescue

Verex III, Orion System.

Malcolm sat in a semi-dark corner near the bar in a dive on the Space Station where he was to meet his contact. A lead had followed _Enterprise_ to this remote station in hopes of gaining information about who was holding Soval.

He was minding his own business, nursing a drink and keeping his eyes open for trouble. Reed was an investigator and a former spy so he knew how to blend into the background all the while being aware of his surroundings.

A waitress came over and offered to freshen up his drink. He declined. A few minutes later a woman with long mutli-colored hair, four ears and a tail, sauntered over and offered him something else, for a small fee of course. He declined her offer as well. While this was going on a Ferengi sat down at the bar near where Malcolm was sitting and ordered a drink. When he glanced in the brit's direction several times, Malcolm got up and approached him.

"Zalters, I presume," Reed said quietly in the man's direction as he continued to look around a bit.

"Who wants to know?" the Ferengi snarled.

"Baroff sent me," Malcolm replied. "You have something for me?"

The shorter man then took an envelope from inside his jacket and slid it on the bar toward the Brit. When Malcolm reached for it, he jerked back. "Not so fast!" the Ferengi said. "I believe you have something for me. I need to see it first!"

Malcolm then reached inside his jacket and took out a small case. He flipped it open revealing eight large coins, made of pure ladnum. Zalters eyes grew big as saucers and his grubby little hands reached for the item almost snatching it from Reed's hand.

Malcolm made an exasperated sound, as he really didn't care for Ferengis. He watched as the messenger took one of the coins turning it over and over again and balanced it in his hand.

"It's the real deal mate," the Englishman said annoyed. "Now give me what I came for."

"I had to be sure," Zalters grinned a toothy grin, then slid the envelope over to Reed. He took it, placed it inside his jacket and headed for the exit.

Suddenly a hand touched his shoulder. Malcolm reached for it bending it back and squeezing it hard before he realized it. The man on the other end of the hand, screamed and started to bend toward the floor, when one of his buddies hurried over and took a swing at the brit. Malcolm blocked the blow and countered with his own, connecting with the attacker's head. The bloke on the floor, leapt up and swung on the Brit. Malcolm kneed him in the groin and hit him behind the neck with clasped hands as he doubled over.

A couple of other unsavory characters headed toward the action, when two MACOs emerged from the shadows. They swiftly took care of the men attempting to stop Reed from leaving with that envelope.

The owner pleaded for everyone to stop. The bar was in bad enough shape without a brawl. But a brawl it was, for a few minutes anyway as Reed and his boys cleaned house very quickly. As soon as it was over, Malcolm flipped out his communicator.

"Three to beam up," he said winded. A few moments later, they were gone.

Later, Malcolm, the Captain and T'Pol viewed the data disk in the captain's ready room. It contained the information for Soval's ransom payment, which the Captain urged the Vulcans not to pay.

=/\=

Zenaria Prime

Engineering Class.

Class was over but Trip's favorite student had stayed behind to engage his teacher. Such had become his habit.

Trip examined the mechanism closely that the student had handed him. "Looks like a deuterium injector, denser though."

"That is precisely what it is, but a great deal more. It is only a prototype, but I believe I am close to perfecting it," Ty'rell said as Trip continued to look at the device. "My design would require less fuel injectors as well as less fuel, and all but eliminate the need for continual remixing of the anti-matter."

"And less fuel, less time balancing the intermix will enhance the warp core and boost the engine's speed?"

Tyrell nodded. "Of at least a point seven or eight yield."

"Whew! Trip said. "If you're right, that would be a major development in engineerin' my friend. "I've pushed _Enterprise's_ engines to warp 5.3 and trust me, that was pushing it. But another seven or eight points, would give us warp six."

"There are those who believe that some species have already obtained warp seven."

"Could be," the engineer replied. "I've seen no evidence of that, but one the other hand, no one knows for sure."

"But if it were true, warp five would be obsolete. And depending upon whether the warp seven drive is first developed by hostile species, worlds like yours and mine could be at risk. I think it is important to stay a step ahead."

"So warp six today, warp seven tomorrow, huh?"

"The sooner we obtain warp six and upgrade all vessels, the sooner we can began to develop the warp seven drive. But I am a mere student. No one will give me an audience."

Trip laughed a little. "So you thought bringing your idea to me would get people to take your invention seriously?"

"Yes, I do."

"Young man," Trip replied, "If you only knew. Okay, tell me how this device works?"

"It is powered by something more powerful than the deuterium inter mix, that is the key," the young man stated. "Trellium!"

Trip look surprised for a second. "Trellium!" he exclaimed. "You can't use that stuff! It's stable in its natural form. But liquified its extremely volatile, it's also harmful to certain species. It's dangerous!"

"It need not be completely liquified," Tyrell replied. "Our scientist believe that when it is broken down into such form it loses its cohesiveness and becomes highly potent and unstable. They have however synthesized it into a crystalline form and used it to heat fireplaces and to provide a source of lighting, for many years now. But, when a scientist was able to use the altered form of the substance to power his holographic chamber, it started me to thinking."

"That it may power an engine too?"

"Yes, in a crystalline form."

"Trellium crystals," Trip said rubbing his chin. "That is so interestin'."

"I would like to show you," the eager student said.

"And I'd like to see it," Trip replied, sufficiently intrigued. But first we're gonna get all the safety protocols in place and proceed with extreme caution. The first sign of trouble, we shut it down, ya hear?"

"Of course, sir," Tyrell said, trying to contain his excitement.

"Let me talk to the department head and the security chief," Trip replied. "Tell 'em I want to test a device on the warp reactor in the training room. Meet back here at 1600."

"I will be here," the Zenarian said with a huge grin. Then they departed.

=/\=

Two Hours Later.

With security present, approval from the Dean, and all safety measures in place, they stepped into the simulation room wearing EV helped Tyrell remove the six intermix tubes from the reactor used for training and teaching and Tyrell replaced them with his three his devices. He then took three trellium crystals and placed them into the chambers and Trip powered up the reactor very slowly.

After a few seconds, the reactor started to hum. Trip stood straight up, watching the levels. The engine fired and for a couple of minutes, seemed to be inching toward warp. But then the lights blinked and there were a few sparks. Everything went dark. The back-up generator kicked in immediately. The engine had stopped cold and there was a burning smell in the room.

"Kraps!" the young man shouted. "I was certain it would last longer this time! I am sorry for wasting your time, sir."

"Ty, what the hell are you talkin' about? That was amazing," the older man said. "You're a friggin' genius kid!"

"But it did not work," the Zenarian said genuinely confused at Trip's enthusiasm.

"Kid, Rome wasn't built in a day ya know."

"Rome?"

"An Earth saying," Trip replied. "What I mean is- these things take time to perfect. You should be very encouraged. I'm sure it's a matter of time before you work out the kinks."

"I am sure you are correct," Tyrell said taking his device out of the cylinder. "I have only been working on it for three years, it could take many more to perfect the device."

"Three years?" Trip repeated, frowning. "How old are you Ty?"

"I am xylinnia, or nineteen of your Earth years."

So, you invented this thing when you were sixteen? My boy, you are one hell of a brilliant young man, you know that!"

"Oh, no, you are the brilliant one, sir. It's just that…you have chosen to suppress the fullness of your intellect."

"What?" Trip asked a bit incredulously.

"I'm sorry, I speak out of turn! Please forgive me! I had no right to speak so boldy!"

"It's alright," Trip said waiving the young man off. They talked a short while longer then went their separate ways.

On his way back to his place however, Trip pondered what Tyrell meant by what he'd said, and he was bothered by it too.

=/\=

T'Pol's Quarters.

She had been having a difficult time meditating, even more so since Trip had been gone. It had been six weeks and she missed him terribly. He did send her a couple of messages however, which she eagerly read and responded to. But she longed to speak to him, to see him, to touch him and have him touch her.

From what he had told her, he was doing a lot better and genuinely glad he gotten away. She thought that I things continued to go well and he could truly deal with all of his issues, then perhaps he could one day forgive her for her gross errors in judgment where he was concerned and they could resume their relationship.

As she sat on the floor in the lotus position, in front of her candle, she finally started to settle into a good meditative state. So good that she found herself in her white room, and for a few moments, she thought he was there too.

"_Impossible_," she thought to herself, _"we are too far away."_ Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part. Nevertheless, something compelled her to speak._"Trip, if you are here and you can hear me, I want you to know how much I miss you…need you," _she said in her mind. _"I have been so very foolish, and I have hurt you…several times. I never meant to however. If only we could begin again."_

Suddenly, she thought she could smell him, sense his presence, almost as if he were watching her. "_Illogical," _she thought. _"I am still very tired. I need… to concentrate and not allow my mind to dwell on the past…I am not even certain if he will come back to Enterprise…to me." _She then shifted her focus and visualized nothing but the blank white space all around her. She meditated for another hour before she felt refreshed enough to sleep.

Trip was leaning up against the front door of his apartment, his arms folded across his chest. He just stood there a moment trying to process what was going on in his head. For a few minutes, he thought he was in T'Pol's white room. He thought he'd seen her in her underwear, sitting on the floor in front of a candle mediating. He'd tried to hold on to the image, but couldn't. What's more, he thought he'd smelled her, that alluring scent she had. He found himself inhaling deeply to take it all in.

Had that really happened? Had he been there for a brief moment, and heard her thoughts? He was sure they were too far away to make any contact as he had not had to even try and block her out. Once Enterprise had dropped him there and gone out of orbit, he couldn't really sense the bond. So, he shouldn't have really been there and heard what she was thinking. Nevertheless, if he had, she had been so honest and sincere in what she'd said, he thought. She was very vulnerable in that moment and he'd almost felt sorry for her.

She missed him…she'd said. She was sorry for hurting him…she never meant to. She wasn't sure he would come back to Enterprise…to her.

He thought for a moment, his eyes closed, thinking he could see her beautiful face. "I miss you too, darlin'," he whispered. "And I still love you…Guess I always will." Then he moved away from the door and headed for the shower. It had been a long day.

T'Pol sat straight up on her bunk. "Trip?" she said. But there was no response. She waited a few seconds in the dark, then quietly lay back down, and drifted off to sleep.

=/\=

Three Days Later.

_Enterprise_, Command Center.

"Is your team ready?" the Captain asked Malcolm.

"Yes sir," the Brit replied. "I will be taking three of the security team members, Powers, Miller and St. John. I will also be taking five MACOs sir, Carter, Bradley, Hill, Rogers and Meredith. It is a lethal combination."

"I would agree," T'Pol said. "Ensign Powers marksmanship scores are third among the crew, behind only Lt. Reed and Major Carter."

"The rest of the team have extremely high marks as well, as well as excellent hand-to-hand combat skills and experience," Reed added. We will also be taking Hess and one of her engineers."

"I really hate to send her," Jon frowned. "With Trip gone I need her on the ship. But at the same time, I need the best on this as well. Bring her back in one piece, Lieutenant. I'm counting on you."

"Yes sir," Malcolm said.

Archer nodded. "I want you to get in and get out," he said. "No one is to stray from this mission. I convinced the Vulcans not to pay the ransom for Soval. I want him back safely and unharmed if possible."

"Hopefully, the bastards haven't already injured him," Malcolm spat.

"The Orions are many things," T'Pol added. "But they are not known for abusing merchandise unnecessarily."

Archer and Reed looked at her. "Let me know as soon as you have him," Jon finally said. "And Mr. Reed, I need you back as well. I need you all back. Dismissed." With that, Reed left to meet his team at the transporter room.

=/\=

Malcolm's team had gotten in without much difficulty. It was a compound located on a remote planet called Verex III, a planet the Orions used to process slaves. But the information Malcolm had obtained from his contact had provided them with the intel they needed. It was credible enough to lead the captain to believe that Soval was being held there and to mount a rescue attempt.

A Vulcan transport vessel would be going on ahead under the guise that they would be making the ransom drop. The Vulcans had followed the instructions to the letter, but they would not be delivering the goods, only a distraction so that Malcolm and his elite team of soldiers could slip through undetcted. Once Soval's presence was confirmed, the team would move forward.

Reed and his team transported down into the compound under the cover of darkness and made ready for the signal. They moved quickly hoping to avoid being detected before they could make their move.

"Vulcan vital signs confirmed," Hoshi said to Malcom over the com. "Two guards posted outside the room."

"Copy," he said. "Go!" Reed then shouted to his people. He led the charge as two of the MACOs took out one of the big Orion guards. The other however, lunged forward onto one of the MACOs flanked beside the Lieutenant. The young woman went flying under the massive weight of the guard. But her colleagues wasted no time in taking him down without harming their team member.

Anna Hess, then moved quickly toward the door and examined the mechanism. She had no idea how to get it open. She and the other engineer started to work frantically attempting to cut though the bulkhead.

"Can't we beam him out?" Reed asked.

"This area seems to be lined with a metal alloy we're unfamiliar with," Hess stated after a quick scan.

"We've got to move this along, then," Malcolm replied.

"Too late sir," one of the ensigns yelled as thunderous sounding steps emerged from down the corridor. The team started to mow them down as they ran toward the intruders.

"Hess!" Malcom shouted as another team member went down from the borage assaulting them.

"Got it!" she finally yelled out as they made it through the door.

Soval was lying on the bed, seemingly unconscious. Just then, the Orions had become closer as Malcolm and the MACOs continued to fire upon them.

"Let's get him out of here before the second team arrives," Reed ordered. With that he was grabbed up by two of Reed's people and they fled to the area where they had beamed down.

Mission accomplished. But, there was no way to tell how badly injured the Ambassador was.


	14. Chapter 14

Revelations

Trip and E'Vaine had become close in the weeks he had been on Zenaria Prime. She shared personal experiences with him and he shared many with her as well. He didn't know it, but E'Vaine was counseling him and helping him work through his issues just as Jon and Phlox had hoped. However, things took a different turn when tragedy struck.

E'Vaine left it for twenty-four hours, for the worst of the shock to wear off. Then, having heard nothing from him, she contacted him herself and asked if they could talk.

Probably it was just his politeness that made him agree to a meeting. He came into her room, but was unable to meet her eyes. Without doubt, all he could think about was the explosion in the engineering lab.

She knew, of course, that Tyrell was Trip's brightest, most brilliant student, his favorite. He had developed a device that he believed would boost the warp core drive to at least warp six. It almost worked too. Trip had encouraged the young man to continue working on the device. He had no idea that he would attempt to test it again, accompanied only by two of his classmates and without permission. The test had gone awry, and the results were devastating. The two other students were badly injured, and Tyrell had been killed.

A couple of days later, after the investigation was complete, it was determined that the event had been an accident, nothing more. Classes had been cancelled and Trip had retreated into his shell, not speaking to anyone. After a week had gone by, and he had still not resumed his classes, his students became concerned. That's when E'Vaine sought him out, and invited him around for a coffee.

"It wasn't your fault," she said now, gently but firmly. "Tyrell made a choice."

He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone; she'd known that as soon as she answered the door. Now, he rose and started pacing. "I shouldn't have encouraged him," he countered. "I told him his invention was great, that he had to keep working on it. I knew it was dangerous though! Too dangerous! It _was_ my fault. I should have known better!"

"They were engineering students and a career in that field brings with it certain risks. They all knew that when they signed up. Besides, they enjoyed your unorthodox way of teaching, your hands-on approach to learning. So many of them have reported how they love spending time in the lab and in the simulation room actually building an engine."

"Yeah well, my so-called _methods_ got somebody killed!" Then he sat down hard and put his head in his hands.

She pressed her lips together. "Trip, don't do this to yourself. It will only make things worse."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Only what you yourself already know. That you were depressed when you came here. That this place has merely provided a distraction for everything you have been trying to run away from. It's just been a sticking-plaster, and now that this has happened, it has ripped the bandage off, opened up your wound and exposed it."

"You d-don't… know what you're…t- talking about," Trip stammered.

"Don't I?" she replied sitting down next to him on the sofa.

He only looked down, but did not speak. After a few moments of silence he tried to say something but seemed unable to formulate the words. There was more silence as tears brimmed in his eyes. He tried to speak again, but found that he still could not. Without ever looking up, he found himself falling forward onto the doctor's shoulder as a few tears slid from his eyes, whether he wanted them to or not.

E'Vaine reached her hand out and stroked the distraught man's back. "It's alright," she whispered softly to him. "It's alright." And for a moment, she thought he would allow the dam to break and free himself of all that he was holding onto. But he didn't. He just sniffled quietly for a few moments more, still holding back.

"Why don't you let me help you?" she asked. "You are so deeply troubled…by more than Tyrell's death. You have shared a great deal with me as a friend. Let me help you on a professional level."

"What's the point!" Trip pulled back slightly, raising his voice. "It won't change anything. Nothing ever changes! Shit like this just keeps happenin' to me!"

"It was NOT your fault!" How could he not see that?

"It _was_ my fault!" he snapped. "Don't you see! I'm a goddamned curse! I'm poison! Every damn thing I touch…just goes straight to hell! Everybody I love…just dies!"

"Trip, you know that is not true!"

He didn't answer. He just wiped his face with his hand as he looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I, uh…I don't know why I came here tonight. I never should have bothered you."

"You came because you needed to talk Trip; you needed a friend. It is unhealthy for your species to try and suppress your emotions. You need to grieve this loss but you won't even allow yourself to let the tears fall."

"I told you before E'Vaine," he said rising. "I'm all cried out! I don't have any more tears to shed about anything or anybody! It's doesn't help, it's just weak!"

"Shedding tears is not a sign of weakness. It is a process of purging and cleansing. You need to stop bottling things up! It is destroying you."

Trip laughed a little at that. But it was not out of humor, but more a sound of darkness and bitterness of soul. Then he rose. "I'm just gonna go," he finally said. "Sorry, I wasted the coffee. Thanks, for… for tryn'a be a friend."

E'Vaine was more concerned about Trip than ever now.

=/\=

Trip returned to his place with the intention of getting thoroughly and completely drunk. But shortly after he arrived, the door chime sounded.

He expected to see E'Vaine again. He was surprised when it was Neila who stood there, asking if she could come in.

He was so upset at the moment that he allowed her to do so, even though it was strictly against regulations. She was a patient and shouldn't be there without permission, even though his apartment was on the grounds.

She made him a hot drink and sat down on the sofa next to him. He sipped it slowly. He hadn't drunk the one E'Vaine had made him, but he was thirstier than he'd thought.

"Thanks," he finally said, putting the cup down. "I needed that."

"Anything I can do to help," the young woman replied, her voice soft. "I know how hard it is to lose somebody."

Trip looked at her. "I thought you didn't remember your husband?" he asked, frowning.

She stared down at her hands, twisting in her lap. "I don't. I was talking about my family back on Earth. They don't even know if I'm dead or alive, and I don't know if my parents are either, or my brother. I feel like I've lost everything."

"I'm sorry Neila," Trip managed to prize his thoughts away from Tyrell's death to concentrate on something he might be able to help. "I guess I've been so wrapped up in myself, I hadn't even thought about your family of origin. I even envied you sometimes, not being able to remember you know…what happened."

"Trip, you are the sweetest, most caring person I've ever met. That's part of your problem, you care too much. That's why it hurts so much."

Slightly embarrassed by the compliment, he smiled a small, awkward smile at her. Then they sat in silence for a few moments.

"Hey, I better get you back," he finally said. "I don't wanna get you into trouble."

"What's the rush?" she replied. "Let's just relax a while, then maybe we can catch a show or go somewhere and have a romantic dinner or something. I love it when we do stuff like that."

Trip was puzzled, and for the first time a whisper of wariness sounded in his mind. "Whadda you talkin' about?" he asked, looking at her with a small frown on his face. "We've never done anything like that. We've just had coffee at the café right here on campus and lunch over at the hospital cafeteria."

"That's what I was thinking of," Nelia replied quickly. But the engineer had a feeling that he needed to get her out of there. Something didn't feel quite right.

He stood up. "C'mon, let me take you back. I appreciate your concern and taking a risk coming here to see about me, but you shouldn't be here. Besides, I really need some time alone, try to process what happened."

Neila pouted a bit, folding her arms across her chest and huffing. "Alright, alright." She was clearly unhappy about being asked to leave. "But let me use your powder room first, then we'll go." He nodded and picked up his cup again; might as well finish the last of the coffee while he waited.

After a few minutes Neila emerged from the washroom. He was so absorbed in his dark thoughts that for a moment he didn't even look up; when he did, he was so taken aback he spat his drink out. She was standing in front of him …completely naked, striking what she obviously thought was a seductive pose.

Seeing his astonished face, she only laughed.

"Neila, what do you think you're doin?" he asked, horrified and shocked. "Put your clothes back on, _right now!"_

"C'mon sweetheart," she said. "I know you want to. Let me help you forget about all of your troubles." She then leaped over and straddled him. Before he could protest, she kissed him.

He was caught off guard, and resisted at first. Then he started to relax and for a moment he fully participated in the kiss. But when she started to unbutton his shirt, the reality of the situation kicked in. He caught her hand and pushed it away.

"No!" he said. "This isn't right. Look Neila, you're very attractive and believe me, under different circumstances, I would welcome the opportunity. But, you're… a patient here and I'm a professor. I can't. Besides, that's not where I am right now, so please, go put your clothes on and let's forget this ever happened."

Then, kindly but firmly, his hands on her waist, he lifted her off of him and got up.

Suddenly, she changed. She scrambled away from him, her face distorted with anger at his rejection. "You've been playing around with this for weeks, paying me all kind of attention, being nice and kind to me! You acted as if you liked me!"

"I do like you, just not in that way."

"You think I'm crazy don't you!"

_How the hell did I ever get into this? _"I don't think you're crazy Neila! This just isn't right!"

"It's that damned E'Vaine, isn't it!"

"What?" the bewildered man frowned.

"I've seen the way you look at her! The same way everyone looks at her! You're fucking her, aren't you!"

"Now, I know it's time for you to go!" he said. "I can't believe you would talk that way about E'Vaine! She's not only your doctor, she's your friend!"

"She's not my friend, she's my captor!" the young woman stormed. "She's keeping me here against my will!"

Trip looked at Neila with narrowed eyes. E'Vaine had warned him to be careful with her. He had not seen this side of her, but now he realized that she was in fact, seriously sick.

"Neila, I'm going to call an escort for you, alright," he tried to say calmly. "Now go put your clothes on."

"Fuck you, you bastard!" she screamed and tore back into the bathroom. When she returned, Trip was closing his comm, having called for an escort.

"Would you like for me to see you back?" he asked reluctantly – he'd seen more than enough of her for one night, probably for the rest of his lifetime.

"I would like for you to never speak to me again!" she spat. "Who do you think you are? You may be a so-called _professor_, but you're just as screwed up as I am, Mr. high and mighty Commander Tucker! But I happen to know the real reason you're here! You think _I'm_ crazy? _You're_ the one that's crazy!"

"That's enough!" Trip grabbed her by the arm to move her toward the door. He didn't have to listen to this crap.

She jerked away. "I read your file!" she said smugly. "I read _everybody's_ files! E'Vaine lets me clean her office sometimes. When I'm there I snoop around. I know how to break into her system. I saw what she wrote about you."

"My file?" Trip asked, thinking the woman was delusional. "I don't have a file, Neila, I'm not a patient."

She laughed in his face. "Oh yes you are, your dumb ass just don't know it! Your Captain, _Jonathan Archer_, and your doctor, _Phlax,_" she said. "They made a deal with E'Vaine to pretend to be your friend so she could treat you for depression and explosive anger disorder!"

That got Trip's attention. "What?" he said, shocked.

Neila snickered. "They said you were a danger to yourself and others, that you wouldn't get help on your own, so they tricked you into coming here hoping the great Dr. E'Vaine could cure you! They wanted you off the ship before you killed somebody! And I know about your Vulcan lover too! That's how I know you have a thing for Vulcans, for that witch E'Vaine!"

Trip could feel his blood pressure rising. Maybe Neila was mentally ill, but she sure seemed to know a lot about him – things he had never told her. Things that no one else could have told her except E'Vaine. So, Neila had to be telling the truth about a secret file being kept on him.

"Why do you think you have that chip in your wrist?" she jeered. "Sure it's a UT, but's it's also a responder chip!"

The escort arrived just at that moment. His face stony, Trip let them in and asked them to take her back to the hospital.

"No!" she screamed as the orderlies began to lead her out. "I'm sorry! I was just joking about all that stuff I just said. Oh, please let me stay here with you! I love you!"

"Alright sweetie, just calm down," one of the escorts said calmly. "You don't wanna keep bothering the professor now. Let's get you home."

"No!" the disturbed woman screamed. "He's my husband! You can't take me away from him! Trip, please don't let them do this!"

"Neila, honey, you need to see the doctor," Trip replied levelly. "Take her," he said to the escorts.

They then grabbed her and practically carried her out of the apartment as she struggled and continued to hurl insults at him. One of the escorts threatened to call for the crisis unit and have her sedated, and luckily that seemed to scare her into co-operating.

After she was gone, Trip sent a comm to Jon. They had a _lot_ to talk about.

And it wasn't going to be pleasant.

=/\=

Trip didn't know where _Enterprise _was at the moment, and he didn't know how long it would take for the comm to reach Jon. But he sent it. The engineer was livid and he had a lot to say.

"I can't believe you fuckin' tricked me into coming here! You claimed you wanted to help! Was this job even for real? Or was that just one big set up too?" Trip said as he paced the floor backwards and forward in front of the view screen. Nobody was listening, not yet, but he didn't care; he needed to get the pressure off of his chest, or he felt as if it would burst. Jon would hear it all sooner or later.

"I tried to resign! I told you I was willin' to walk away! You didn't have to trick me to get me off your precious ship…since I'm so damned dangerous, such a _liability!_ And, and that damned Phlox and his lyin' ass co-hort! She's been pretendin' to be my friend!" Trip shouted as he continued his frantic pacing. His own reflection frightened him when he caught sight of it in a mirror; he had a wild look in his eyes and his neck veins were pulsating.

"Yeah, I get it now. She was just play-acting and, and psycho-analyzin' me all the time! Experimentin' on me and talking about me to you behind my back! Boy, she must have been laughin' her ass off at all my whinin' and bullshit!"

"She's a _fraud!_" the red-faced engineer shouted, his voice rising wildly. "Well fuck this! Fuck E'Vaine! Fuck Phlox and fuck you! I quit!" And then, with a smash that almost broke the comm unit, he cut the transmission.

It was no good. He had to find some vent for his fury, and for a moment he found it in throwing things around the room. That didn't hold him for long, however and a few moments later he stormed out. He had to find E'Vaine and confront her.


	15. Chapter 15

Between Friends

Trip's former 'friend' was in the middle of an evening group session with some of her patients. He barged right in and sat down in the back of the room, clearly fuming.

E'Vaine was surprised to see him.

"Mr. Tucker," she began after a few minutes, raising her voice slightly. "I'm in the middle of group. If you need to speak to me feel free to wait for me in my office. I have about fifteen more minutes to go."

"No!" Trip said with his arms folded in front of him. "I wanna join your group. I need your help, remember?"

E'Vaine could sense something was off. But she didn't want to spook the engineer. "Please wait for me in my office," she replied.

"I'm not leavin'," he growled.

Knowing Trip's presence would be a distraction for her patients and that him interrupting like this couldn't be anything good, she turned to her group. "Everyone, we will be ending early today," she said. "Mr. Tucker and I need to have a little one-on-one." The group members slowly got up and begin to leave, some of them casting him inquisitive glances.

As soon as everyone had left, Trip leaped up and started toward the Vulcan.

"We need to talk!" he said through gritted teeth.

"What's the matter Trip?" she asked mildly. "You are angry again. It seems as if you are about to explode."

"Damn right I'm angry! I'm down right pissed, fuckin' off!"

"I sense you are angry with me this time."

Now he did explode. "You're a goddamn liar! You pretended to be my friend! You conspired with Phlox and my captain to practice your two-bit psychology on me!"

E'Vaine was shocked, and unfortunately couldn't completely hide it; he sneered at her expression. "Yeah I know all about it so don't try to deny it!"

"Very well," she admitted simply. "I conspired with your doctor and your captain to treat you psychologically. But I never pretended to be your friend. I _am_ your friend."

"Friends don't trick each other and lie to each other! They tell each other the truth and respect one another's boundaries! You've fuckin' walked all over mine!"

She looked back at him calmly. "You are right Trip, friends don't lie to one another, and for that I owe you an apology. I really was only trying to help, and so were your friends from _Enterprise_. But I never lied to you about what I thought. I told you that I thought you needed professional help on several occasions. You were never open to it."

"Look! My doctor and my captain think I'm nuts!"

"Do _you_ think you're 'nuts'?"

"What?" He stared, caught off-guard. "What kind of question is that?"

"Why don't you come to the office with me, let's get something to drink and we'll talk some more."

"I'm not your goddamed patient, E'Vaine!" Trip shouted. "You've been manipulatin' me all this time and you think I'm gonna let you counsel me now? Neila was right about one thing, you're a fraud, an arrogant…"

"Neila?" E'Vaine asked, puzzled.

"She read the file you've been keeping on me!" he said. "She told me everything."

"Neila called me a few minutes ago. She said you tried to assault her."

"What!" Trip yelled, almost shaking with anger. "_She_ came on to _me!_"

"I warned you to be careful with her. She is ill. Did she tell you the one about being married to the son of the Crown Prince of Draylax?"

"No," he snapped. "She didn't say that. She just said she was married before!"

"It is part of her delusion." She sighed. "She did kill him, however. That is why she is here. The royal family of Draylax wanted to execute her, but the law forbade it. She is here serving out her sentence."

"Sentence!" Trip exclaimed, taken aback. "What about her kids? About having asylum here and not knowing whether her family back on earth was dead or alive? She said she needed someone to smuggle her off this rock so she can get back home!"

"None of that is true. And, she is not cut off from her parents; they visit her at least once a year. They run a cargo ship," Evaine said. "Neila has been ill most of her adult life. Patient confidentiality prevents me from telling you much of the story, but she developed an obsession with the young prince, contrived a meeting with him somehow and eventually killed him."

Trip was stunned by the story for a minute, but this wasn't about Neila, it was about him and the risk he'd taken. "I had no idea," he said. "She seemed so normal, most of the time."

"But she is in fact very ill."

"Well so am I, right?" he said incredulously, his anger gathering way again. "Okay, so I was wrong about Neila! But right now, this isn't _about_ her! Look, the gig is up! I called Jon and I called Phlox and gave them both a piece of my mind! Then I quit! First thing in the mornin', I'm outta here too!"

"Trip, you cannot leave." E'Vaine spoke gently. "You have to finish the term. Be angry with me, never speak to me again, but do not leave your students with no instructor. It is only two weeks before exams. Surely you can stay two more weeks, for their sake."

"Hell, no I can't! I want as far away from this place as I can get! I'm sick to death of people lyin' to me, manipulatin' me, thinking they know what the hell is best for me! So, thanks but no thanks lady, I'm out! I should have known to never trust a Vulcan!"

E'Vaine had begun to get angry herself. "Is that what you think? That all Vulcans are out to deceive you, lie to you, hurt you? You equate me with your Vulcan lover because I have tried to help you? Didn't T'Pol try to help you as well? Isn't that how she became involved with you on an intimate level?"

He glared at her. "Hey, don't even go there! You don't know anything about my relationship with T'Pol!"

"Perhaps not. But one thing I do know, however, that is you blame her for all of your problems. Rather than confronting them, you propel them all on to her. You have decided that she is responsible for all of your unhappiness when she is not to blame, and you have been incredibly unfair to her. You really believe she purposely hurt you? She is Vulcan, Trip, she had no idea how to be in a relationship with a man from another species. She did not know how to act or how to be human, to act as a human female would have acted."

"I didn't expect her to act like a human female!" he yelled.

"Didn't you? You talked about how much you loved her, how you told her that, but she never told you back. You talked about how she didn't tell you things, she relied upon her logic. Well, she had no other frame of reference – what did you expect her to use? Sometimes, Trip Tucker, to put it frankly, you have acted very foolishly!"

"I don't have to listen to this!"

"No, you don't. You don't have to listen to me, to your captain, to doctor Phlox, no one! You know everything and don't need anyone!"

"I don't owe any of you anything!"

"You are correct," she replied coldly. "Not your friends, not your colleagues, not your students, not even Tyrell."

Even in the midst of his fury, Trip hesitated for a moment at the thought of his dead student. "That's a low blow," he said angrily. "I cared for that boy!"

"Well, I imagine that's something," the Vulcan said. "But you should leave here right away, nevertheless. Go ahead, I won't try to stop you. I thought I could help you. But I cannot, your fate is set."

"Whaddaya mean by that!" Trip snarled.

E'Vaine crossed her arms in front of her chest and stepped close up on Trip. "You said that friends tell each other the truth. Well, let me speak a little truth to you, Mr. Tucker. I believe you are deeply ill, and that you will self-destruct shortly after you leave here. Nevertheless, I think you should by all means, go."

"What?" he said, obviously shocked by her sudden surrender. Then he laughed. "You think I'm gonna melt down, just fall completely apart when I leave here, but you tell me to go ahead and leave? I thought you were this great, famous doctor? Well, what you just said makes no sense! What kind of doctor are you anyway? On my world what you've done would be considered unethical!"

She leaned on the desk and looked steadily at him. "I am not bound by human ethics. I am free to employ whatever radical and unorthodox treatment methods I choose in my efforts to help those most in need. There is nothing traditional about what I do."

"Whatever!" Trip said. "Doesn't even matter, I'm out!"

"Very well. You obviously do not wish to be here and I can neither stop you from leaving nor force you to receive help. But I tell you this: when you leave here, you will continue to spiral downward until you reach a deep and dark abyss. Your Captain and your doctor will no longer be able to protect you and you will lose your Starfleet commission. You are estranged from your family for reasons all of your own making and you will not reconcile with them because of your stubborn pride. You will be alone and despondent, so much so that you will either take your own life or cause the death of someone else. Perhaps in a fit of rage you will kill T'Pol, or your Captain, perhaps a family member…"

"_You're_ the one that's crazy, lady!" Trip shouted as he stepped a little closer to her with his fists balled and a wild look in in his eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about! If you knew anything about me, anything at all, you'd know I'm not capable of something like that! Besides, I already quit Starfleet – so there! How can I do any of that bullshit you're talkin' about? I'm not even goin'back!"

"I don't believe that," E'vaine said sadly. "Because you have nowhere else to go."

Trip backed up a few steps. At a guess, he was so angry he couldn't even speak. No doubt part of him – the part that so many Vulcans saw as proof that Humans were primitive and lacking in self-control – wanted to punch this woman in the face. Instead, however, he grabbed a chair and made to throw it across the room.

E'Vaine did not move, she just calmly watched him as he held the chair in the air, breathing deeply.

"Well?" she said evenly. "Aren't you going to throw it? Go ahead. Do it! Do it and confirm everything I have said about your future."

Trip was shaking, and clearly fighting back tears. He was just as clearly fighting the uncontrollable urge to tear the place apart. But instead he looked back at her, slowly lowered the chair and put it down on the floor, and then he slumped down hard in it, covering his face with his hands.

"Alright," he said choking back tears. "You win. I – I know I'm sick. There! I said it, I'm sick. As a matter of fact, I'm completely screwed up on multiple levels. I don't know who I am anymore and I don't like what I see when I look in the mirror. And I'm tired, I'm just so tired of feelin' like this. Why can't I feel normal again? I wanna get better, I just don't know where to begin."

"Well, that was a big step," E'Vaine said gently. She looked into the tortured eyes in his contorted face, and wished that she could help him, but he was still unable to let go – and until that happened, there was nothing she could do for him. "However, as I said, you should leave here. I know that you need help, but the help you need is not here. You will have to find a place that will provide it."

This infuriated him. "I just admitted to you that I was sick!" he shouted as he leaped up. "I know it, okay! I'm ready, I'm ready to do this!"

"To do what?" E'Vaine asked. "To participate in the process, to get better, to heal?"

"Yes, I'm ready! I'll do whatever you want me to do, okay? You win!"

"I do not 'win', Trip! It's not about winning or losing. It _is_ about healing, however, and to do that you must possess a certain something that I simply do not see in you."

He crossed his arms and glared at her across them. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Courage."

"Lady, I'm no coward," he said through his teeth. "I've been servin' on a star ship for five years. I've been in all kinds of dangerous situations, in battles. I've almost lost my life plenty of times, but I never shirked back from the fight."

"Oh, I don't doubt that. And I did not say that you were a coward per se. As a matter of fact, I perceive that you are a very brave man indeed; that you would put your life on the line for a friend or colleague in a second. I believe that you possess a certain _type_ of courage, I do; just not the courage to heal".

"You see, it takes a different type of courage to look deep within the recesses of one's mind, one's soul and spirit. To see all that is there, to examine it up closely, no matter how repulsive or vile, and no matter how painful; to confront it with everything that is within you and with everything that you are. To deal with it, to strip it of its power, its hold over you, to eradicate it from the inside out and banish it from your very being. Not many _can_ do it, fewer _will_ do it. But, with the kind of pain that has you imprisoned, this is what _you_ would have to do. And yes, you are incarcerated Mr. Tucker, at your very core. But I do not see within you what it takes to exorcise your demons, and to get out of this prison. I do not see that you have the courage to truly and completely heal. Because it is more likely, and much easier, to die than to face your demons and live. It's not a criticism, it's not a judgment, it is just so".

"So, I would suggest that you leave this place first thing in the morning. You should get on with the rest of your short life. Goodbye, Trip."

With that E'Vaine turned and walked away, out of the classroom.

=/\=

She left Trip standing there with his hands on his hips. He had never heard anything like that in his life. He was trembling with anger too, still fighting the urge to tear the place apart. It took everything he had in him, and that wasn't much, to not completely lose control of himself. He just stood there, alone, for a long time, shaking and thinking.

Then, he finally left, still thinking.

=/\=

That night Trip did not go to dinner but he did not pack either. He tried to sleep, but he couldn't. He tossed and turned all night. He got up and paced the floor. He wanted to break something badly or trash the furniture, but he resisted.

So, he paced the floor backwards and forward. He could not get out of his mind those things that E'Vaine had said to him. That h_e didn't possess the courage to heal…to exorcise his demons…to get out of prison…that it was easier to die than to face his demons and live._ No one had ever said anything to him like that in his life. Hell, he hadn't ever even _heard_ anything like that in his life. In all their efforts, neither Jon nor Phlox had ever talked to him like that. Maybe she was just baiting him, to get a reaction out of him. Well, it had worked, because he was mad as hell and couldn't stop thinking about the things E'Vaine had said that challenged him and cut him to his core.

She had said that he would eventually take his own life, and she was so damned sure about it. She said either that, or he would take someone else's life, either intentionally or unintentionally. That it might be T'Pol, Captain Archer or a family member. She couldn't possibly know anything like that! Who did she think she was? He was going to report her, to complain about her. He would leave in the morning, but not before filing an official complaint about the horrible, so-called, quack doctor that was the head of the Department of Psychiatry!

He gradually calmed himself, a little anyway. He stopped his pacing and got himself a drink – a stiff whisky from a stash he wasn't supposed to have. He threw it back, hoping it would help him sleep.

He finally got into bed, hoping to drift off. A few minutes later, he was up again, pacing the floor.

There was no sleep tonight for Trip Tucker.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: There is a 2013 movie entitled "Mindscape". I am in no way infringing upon that work nor make any reference to it here nor any of its characters. I have never seen it. I only found out about it when I googled the term. Also, this story has been written for entertainment purposes only and no money has been made from it. Bri**

* * *

_The Mindscape_

Trip had been up practically all night. He'd had a rough few days. He was still reeling from the death of his student Tyrell, Neila had dropped a bomb shell on him, and he and E'Vaine had had a major blow-out because of it.

He had been so angry with the Vulcan because he had regarded her as a friend. He had shared some deep, personal things with her and turned out it was all just one big set-up. She had done to him exactly what so many others in his life had done, lied to him, manipulated him…betrayed him.

Now he found himself in a precarious position: what to do next. A few hours ago, his intention was to leave Zanaria Prime first thing in the morning. Now, after a sleepless night, thinking and tossing over everything in his mind all night, it was daybreak and he wasn't so sure anymore. Where was he going to go?

E'Vaine had said that he had nowhere to go. Perhaps she'd been right. He knew he couldn't go back to the ship. They had wanted him gone and tricked him into taking this assignment in the first place. Besides, he'd already sent Jon a sub-space communication, told him and Phlox off and quit.

If he swallowed his pride, called his folks and apologized to them and his brother, maybe he could go home. But why? What would he do there? Mississippi had never been his home. He didn't know anybody there other than his family. And for all intents and purposes his family now lived in a very small, rural town. His engineering skills wouldn't be needed in a place like that. He doubted he could find challenging work there.

He could go back to San Francisco, where he'd lived for several years while attending Starfleet academy and preparing to launch _Enterprise._ But he wouldn't want to do that, and have to run into folks from Starfleet asking a lot of questions. In addition, Jon and Phlox would no doubt send in their reports how he'd had a mental breakdown. He wouldn't be able to get a reference from Starfleet. No employer would touch him after that.

He thought his best option would be to charter a ship, get back to Earth and start looking for his son. But then again, where the hell would he start looking? Perhaps in San Francisco, the Lunar Station or Mars Colony? Those sounded like reasonable options. But he wasn't trained in investigative work. He'd have to hire someone because he'd surely make a mess of things if he went it alone. Of course, he didn't know anyone better than Malcolm Reed, and Malcolm was already on the job.

…Or so he claimed.

With a grimace of disgust, Trip realized his bitterness was invading everything, corrupting everything. Mal was the one guy who'd never played him false. If he said he was working on it, then he was.

Maybe he could just travel the stars, visiting whatever planet he wanted, picking up odd jobs here and there. Or maybe he could open his own space/repair station. But what about T'Pol? Things were still up in the air with her. How could he leave her hanging like that? She didn't deserve that.

Everything was such a mess.

E'Vaine had said that he needed to get control of his anger, or it was going to destroy him; that he was volatile and dangerous. He didn't want to hurt anybody, he really didn't. But he also knew that when his anger got the best of him, he couldn't control it. What if he got into an argument with some clown at a bar or on some space station and a fight ensued? What if he _did_ kill someone in a fit of anger? That would be more than he could bear. He would surely just end it all if something like that ever happened.

Then he realized what he'd just conjured up in his mind. It was exactly what E'Vaine had said he would do. The troubled man sighed deeply and sat up on the edge of the bed. He put his head in his hands for a moment then looked at his wrist where the UT/responder chip was implanted.

"Guess I better find out how to get this damned thing out_,"_ he said to himself. He'd had it injected in the universities' infirmary. But when he called to inquire about the device's removal, he was told that Dr. E'Vaine had to approve it first.

=/\=

_E'vaine's Office_

It was as if she wasn't even surprised to see him. She knew he'd be back. If for nothing else, to get approval to remove the stupid chip.

"Good morning," she said. She looked very neatly dressed this morning dressed in a white, button-down blouse, and black slacks, her long black hair pulled back in a single ponytail. Trip couldn't help but to think that she was so beautiful and elegant that she made the simplest outfit look really classy.

"Mornin'," he replied levelly.

"How are you this morning Trip?" she asked.

He hesitated. "Really tired," he said. "I didn't sleep a wink."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I imagine you want me to give my approval to get your chip removed?"

A nod. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"What about something to wake you up first?" she asked, as if hoping to prolong their time together.

"I have tea and the ale water that is similar to coffee that you like."

"Sure," he said, "that'd be great."

"Very well, have a seat and I'll get you a cup. What about a muffin or some fruit?"

"Whatever you have," he said softly. She was disarming him already. Damn, she was good at this.

E'Vaine nodded. She poured the drinks, set them out on her table and put a plate of muffins and fruit alongside them before she sat across from him.

He sipped the beverage slowly, his eyes carefully avoiding hers. He picked over the muffin for a few moments as she ate hers daintily but with obvious enjoyment. Finally, he put the cup down, he clasped his hands on the table in front of him and looked at the doctor.

"What if I said…that I…that you were right, I have nowhere to go? That even if I did…I realize that I really don't want to? What if I asked you for your help?"

"I would say it would be my honor and my pleasure to assist you, Trip. But only if you would please accept my apology for lying to you and manipulating you. I realize that I have done the very thing that you hate, and I was arrogant about it. I said I wasn't bound by your ethics. Perhaps I need to evaluate my position on ethics when it comes to other species. And, I am especially sorry for all the things I said to you last night. I had no right. I hope that you can forgive me at some point."

"Apology accepted," he said simply. "I know you were trying to help me, and actually you were, more than you know. And the things you said to me last night, well, I needed to hear it. I needed a good swift kick in the ass. You gave it to me…It was a wake-up call for me like you would never believe. So, what now?"

"I realize that you have only three weeks left before the term is up and your ship comes to pick you up. I would like do some intense therapy with you, but even if we met every day, which would likely be too overwhelming, we still may not have enough time to explore everything that I think is necessary. Therefore, I'd like to propose something to you."

"I'm listening," Trip said.

"I would like to perform a deep mind probe on you."

He paused. "Is that the same as a mind meld, or like entering T'Pol's white room?"

"Yes, but instead of simply retrieving memories, or allowing communication that the white room allows, this probe will allow you to see into your own mind, with the assistance of a phenomenon called the mindscape."

"'Mindscape'? Whadda ya mean, 'mindscape'? Is this some type of mind meld?"

"It's not a mind meld itself, it's more of a force or reality."

This was starting to sound really scary. "An entity?"

"No, the mindscape does not _live_, it _exists_."

"I don't follow," Trip said, his brow furrowed.

"Very well. You've told me that you've been inside a holographic chamber before, am I correct?"

"Right."

"Then that's probably the best way I can describe it. Except it's not made of resequenced photons and you cannot see it or touch it. It is a force or reality that has existed on this planet for centuries. It is a protective cocoon that will hold the fabric of any mind that is able to enter in. I can take you inside through a deep mind probe. It will allow you to not only see, but to experience your own thoughts and anything that you have created or stored in the deep recesses of your mind. It will be like nothing you've ever experienced before."

"And this 'mindscape' experience is supposed to do what, when it's all said and done?"

"Help you deal with your demons, expeditiously."

"I'm still not sure I understand."

"Will you trust me?"

Trip thought for a moment. "I guess I have nothing to lose."

"But everything to gain," E'Vaine said. "I do have to caution you, though. You know that mind melds in and of themselves can be dangerous. This probe is _very_ dangerous. If, for whatever reason, the probe does not go as planned, you could end up in a coma, or with brain damage, even die. But I have navigated the mindscape for fifty years. If it becomes too overwhelming, or too painful, or if I sense any potential damage to you, I will be there to pull you back."

"That sounds really scary," Trip commented with a frown. "Let me ask you this: in all the years you've been navigating this mindscape, how many people have you taken in this thing and how many of 'em ended up in a coma, with brain damage, or dead?"

"I have taken over five hundred people into the mindscape. However, one hundred and seventy-nine were not able to bear it and we abandoned the probe. One hundred and four were able to partially navigate the mindscape on the first try, but were unable to go deeper on the second attempt. Two hundred and fourteen were able to complete the process and receive all of the benefits the mindscape has to offer. Three people slipped into a coma and never woke up again."

"So, you've got about a 43% success rate with the thing," he said, calculating rapidly. "I guess those aren't bad odds."

"Why don't you take until tomorrow to think about it?" she suggested. "If you would like to give it a try, we can begin in the afternoon, after class."

"Okay," he said. "In the meantime, am I still employed here?"

"Yes, and your students are anxious to resume classes. Why don't you send them a communication?"

"I'll do that." Trip smiled a small smile at the Vulcan, then he left.

=/\=

_The Next Day_.

Trip sat across from E'Vane in a comfortable chair in her office while she sat in the matching one across from him. He looked around automatically for the pillows and candle.

"Aren't we gonna assume the position?" he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

"The position?" the Vulcan asked, sounding puzzled.

"Pillows on the floor, lotus position, candles?"

E'Vaine raised an eyebrow at that. "That is not necessary," she replied. "I am astute in the art of mind melds, and I do not require touch to access your mind."

"You're not a touch telepath?"

"No. As I explained earlier, I am a gifted telepath. I can do things that many Vulcans with extremely high psi ratings, nor even Betazoids can do. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess." He hoped his voice didn't give away that he was a bit uneasy.

"Very well," she said simply. "Let us begin.

"I would like for you to close your eyes and relax. I want you to listen to the sound of my voice, shut out everything else. Try to think of nothing but peace and serenity."

Trip did his best to follow her instructions, though his mind immediately started racing. He kept listening to E'Vaine, however, dragging back his thoughts to what she was saying, and finally he was able to see the image that she was describing to him. It was a green meadow, filled with wild-flowers against the backdrop of a beautiful mountain range and a perfect blue sky.

Then suddenly, he found himself walking through the meadow that he had seen in his mind. He looked around and touched the wild flowers to see if they were real, and felt the smooth softness of them against his fingers.

"Where…where am I?" he asked, turning quickly to see the Vulcan walking toward him. "Where are we? What's happening?"

"Do not be alarmed," she said gently. "This is the mindscape. And you needn't worry: no accidental bonds can be formed between us. You are already bonded to one individual, so therefore you cannot bond with another. Besides, I have sufficient control and experience to ensure that I would never allow myself to be bonded to someone in this manner."

"So, what now?"

"Walk with me," she said. "I want to show you something."

They walked for a while saying nothing, Trip just taking it all in.

"So, this really is the mindscape?" he finally asked.

"Yes. You are experiencing it through my mind."

"I'm not sure I understand, but this is great. It feels real. I can feel the wind blowing, smell the grass, the flowers."

And as they walked through the meadow, without warning Trip suddenly found himself on top of one the mountains, looking down. Icy white peaks spread around him, and his booted feet had sunk six or seven centimeters into snow.

"Whoa!" he said, "how did that happen?"

"You wondered what it would be like to see the valley from up here. So, here we are."

"This is amazing," he said, gazing around. "Not just the view. This whole thing. Being here like this."

"Now, let's venture further into _you_r mind. There is much to do there."

Before Trip could say more, the landscape was gone they were traveling through what seemed like a tunnel of space with a million images firing around them.

"Your mind is at sometimes chaotic," she commented. "But you know how to calm your thoughts so that you can experience a single stream of consciousness."

Trip nodded as he watched himself studying writings, papers, articles and books on various engineering subjects and working tirelessly on the warp reactor on _Enterprise_.

He visited multiple fond memories, some long forgotten, stored away in his memory banks. He spent time with family in more pleasant times back in Florida, before the Xindi. There were big barbeques, weddings, and reunions, first at his grandparents' home, then at his parents' place. Seeing the Tuckers doing what they did best brought a huge grin to his face, brought back so many feelings he was almost overcome. It was an amazing experience, especially in light of where things stood with his family now. His grandparents were gone, Lizzie was gone and after what had happened the last time he was home, things were not the same. Probably never could be, or would be.

After he had relived many wonderful moments, Trip entered into a space that contained multiple dark passageways. He hesitated, not wanting to find out what lay beyond. Just being in the vicinity of these dark spaces threw his thoughts into a whirlwind and he saw a barrage of disturbing images. But it wasn't as if were just seeing or reliving painful life experiences, it was as if he were actually _there_. He could feel and touch whatever was around him, talk to the people in the room with him, smell smells, hear and taste. The suffering he witnessed in what seemed like only a fraction of a second was overwhelming.

Suddenly, overwhelmed and wanting to escape from all this, he started running down a dark corridor. He didn't know where he was going or what he was even running from, but was desperate to get away. Something was in the corridor with him and he was afraid.

But after a while, he had to stop for a few moments to catch his breath. He looked around, trying to determine what was going on. There were no pictures; nothing.

When he turned again to move forward, that's when he saw her. He jumped, startled.

"Charles!" he said.

"Hello Trip," the cogenitor replied.

"No, you're dead. You can't be here."

"I may be dead in reality, but I am a part of your thoughts, your mind. So, here I am."

"I killed you!" Trip said in anguish.

Charles' face twisted. "Yes, you did!"

"I'm sorry," Trip forced out. "If I had known, I would have never…"

"But you did!" Charles said. "You went against protocol, against your senior officer's direct orders. You did what _you_ thought was best! You tried to force your way of life, onto me, my people!

"I'm sorry!" Trip shouted in anguish. "I'd do anything to take it all back. To do things differently!"

Charles just stood there for a moment. Then started laughing. "What do you want from me? What do you expect, _forgiveness_?"

"No! Yes! I don't know! I just don't want to see your face anymore when I try to go to sleep at night!"

"You'll never be free of me," the cogenitor told him bitterly, leaning forward. "I will always be here, trapped in the reservoir of your mind, reminding you of your sin, of your crime! Murderer! _Murderer!_"

"No!" Trip yelled and started to run again. E'Vaine tried to calm him with the sound of her voice, but he was not listening to her.

Suddenly he burst out of the corridor and found himself in a small room. The walls were covered with scales. A box sat on a small table in the room, the only thing there. He started to move closer to it so he could see what was in it.

He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them and peered over into the box. In it lay a baby…a Xyrillian baby. "You were so ashamed and humiliated by my existence that you got rid of me as soon as possible and never looked back," a voice behind him said.

He turned quickly. It was a little girl of about five or six.

"Who…who are you?" he demanded fearfully.

She looked at him with her piercing blue eyes. She also had dirty blond hair pulled into two pigtails on the side of her head. She had light green scales cascading down the sides of her face. Her hands were covered with them and so were parts of her legs.

"I'm Ah'Lyiah," she said. "Your daughter."

"You are _not_ my daughter!" Trip replied forcefully. He didn't mean to frighten the girl, but he was frightened himself. "Phlox said you didn't have my DNA! He…he said you were _not_ my child!

"And you believed him?" the child asked, her voice accusing, disdainful.. "You didn't even try to find out for sure!"

"Your…your mother and her people, took you – they took you away! I had no rights where you were concerned. I wasn't your father!"

She sneered. "Trip, we both know that's not the real reason. You hated me, you wanted me to die."

"No, that's – that's not true! I – I carried you for two whole weeks so you could live," he stammered. "If we'd never found your mother, I would have delivered you! I'd already decided that!"

"No, you wouldn't have," she said angrily. "You had a plan and I know what it was! You were going to kill me!"

"No!" Trip snarled. "Yeah, I admit, I thought about it! I never would have gone through with it. But I had to explore all my options!"

Suddenly the little girl started to cry.

This was just unbearable. He backed away, first slowly, then quickly, until he turned around and found himself back in the corridor and started running again; but he hadn't gone more than a few meters when he heard a voice call out to him.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin'?" the voice said behind him.

Trip stopped in his tracks. He knew that voice – it was his own.

He whipped around.

"No, no _no!_" he groaned.

"What's the matter Commander," Sim drawled, surveying him contemptuously over crossed arms. "Aren't you glad to see me again?"

"'Glad to see you again'? I've never goddamn _stopped_ seein' you!" Trip shouted. "Every damn time I look in the mirror, I see you!"

"Whoa, hold on, keep your shirt on Trip. Why you mad at me, buddy? I never did anything to you."

"But I did something to you!" Trip wailed. "I'm alive because of you!"

Sim's lip curled. "Yeah, you are, you ungrateful son-of-a-bitch!"

"I _am_ grateful!" Was he? He wasn't sure. It had always been so much of a mess he'd tried never to think of it. "It's just, I never would have wanted someone to die for me!"

"But somebody did, didn't they? Oh, poor Trip, boo hoo! Sim died to save his sorry ass and he can't handle it!"

"It wasn't my decision!" Trip cried out angrily and ran up to Sim with his fists balled. "That was Jon's call, plain and simple!"

"Doesn't change a thing," Sim said. "Facts are facts, Trippy-boy. You're here and I'm gone, uh, more or less. You _do_ have part of my brain tissue. So, I'm always gonna be with you – ain't no gettin' around that."

"Why don't you leave me alone?" It emerged almost as a wild scream. "I just want to be left alone!"

"You stupid bastard!" Sim snapped. "You came lookin' for me, remember. Bringin' all your anger and your guilt in here with ya! Like I said, I'm always gonna be here, in your head, literally! Deal with it! But oh, I forgot, you _can't,_ can you!"

"I don't have to be here." How did he say he couldn't cope? Where was the emergency button? "I can leave anytime I want!

"E'Vaine!" he screamed. "Let me out, Let me outta here!" He started beating on the walls and pushing against them as he scrambled frantically up and down the corridor, trying to escape.

He saw death and destruction all around him, witnessed primarily in the war with the Xindi. He saw the Xindi attack his home world and the faces of seven million people he didn't even know, that is, except a few in his home town, and one who meant more to him than almost anyone. But he didn't recognize his sister, only her burned corpse, which stared sightlessly at him out of its burned sockets. She reached out for him but he was afraid to touch her, to pull her out of the fire.

Then he saw hundreds of children of various species, right there in the corridor. They were reaching for him and calling his name, over and over again. But he couldn't help any of them.

But when he found himself holding baby Elizabeth in Sickbay again, in that unbearable moment she left him for good, and her little hands were reaching up to him, crying, as if she were afraid and asking him, her father, to save her, he was undone. He was utterly overcome with guilt and sorrow.

His heart pounded heavily in his chest, and he began to feel severe, crushing pain. He grabbed his ribs, thinking he was about to have a heart attack. He'd forgotten where he was, in the mindscape. A part of him knew E'Vaine was trying to talk him through it, to help him hold it together, but he was no longer able to hear her voice.

Suddenly, he was falling, screaming and falling into what seemed like a black abyss. But in reality, it was his own stream of consciousness. Just when he thought he would fall into a place of no return, E'Vaine appeared to reach out her hand into the blackness and grab a hold of him. And in a millisecond, he was back in her office.

Trip couldn't breathe. He gasped for air but couldn't suck enough in. His heart rate was erratic, beating so fast it seemed it would burst from his chest.

He was now somehow on the floor, when suddenly multi-colored lights flashed around him.

He was no longer in E'Vaine's office, but in the hospital. Someone tore open his shirt and pressed hard against his chest, then pressed a hypo to his neck. Suddenly, his breathing slowed and his heart started to beat evenly. Then darkness claimed him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: I've got a couple of things going on and my beta isn't available at the moment, so it may be a little over a week before I'm able to post another chapter and get this baby wrapped up (at least five more to go). I appreciate your patience and all of your support! Until then...Bri**

* * *

Dark Places

Trip slept for twelve hours. When he finally woke up, he felt tired, like his whole body had been beaten.

E'Vaine was sitting beside his bed reading. She shut off her PADD when she noticed him stirring. He went to sit up and she hurried to his side to help him.

"What the hell happened to me?" he asked groggily.

"You allowed the images to overwhelm you," she replied. "You lost your focus and perspective and started to…"

"To what?" he snapped. "What was that falling sensation?"

"You were slipping into a coma. I snatched you back just before that happened."

Memories overwhelmed him. "I couldn't stand it! It was too much…pain. It was too much."

"I warned you that it was dangerous in the mindscape," the Vulcan replied. "We can proceed with a more traditional approach to therapy, if you choose to continue."

"Yeah, well I most certainly choose to continue," Trip said at once."I know something is happenin', that I'm on the periphery of…of… I don't know what! But look, I wanna go back in. Into the mindscape I mean."

"Trip, you had a close call." E'Vaine placed a hand on his arm. "I enticed you to go into the mindscape in the first place. I challenged you to go deeper, in order to heal from a dark place.

"You took the challenge. I admire that. But you had a narrow escape back there, and there are other ways to get where you want to go."

"I have to go back." Trip knew he was displaying the stubborn streak that had gotten him into so much trouble in the past, and he didn't care. "I have to finish what I started."

"Look," the doctor started. "I know I said that you didn't have the courage to heal. Don't risk everything to prove that I was wrong. I _was_ wrong, I freely acknowledge that. Please don't do this because you feel you have something to prove."

"But I _do_ have something to prove!"

"No, you do not! Not to anyone, not me, not your Captain, not T'Pol."

"What about to myself?" He scowled up at her, challenging her to deny that. "Maybe I have something to prove to myself."

"And that would be?"

Trip hesitated a moment. He pressed his hand to his forehead for a second, then lowered it and looked levelly at her. "That I… that I can come out on the other side of this. And maybe when I'm done, I can understand myself better. I _need_ some answers. I believe they may be down those passageways I saw in the mindscape. Please! I have to know what's in those dark places you're talkin' about. If I can't face 'em, how can I ever believe I'm cured?"

E'Vaine folded her arms across her chest and stared at him for a long moment. "So you think the answers you seek may lie within those corridors? That you may have a better understanding of yourself if you 'come out on the other side', as you put it."

Trip shrugged and waved his hand at the Vulcan. "Guess that's about it."

"I am impressed," she said.

"So, you'll help me get back there? You'll take me back in?"

"Yes. Tomorrow, 1200 hours," she stated. "Get some rest, you will need it." With that, she rose, turned and walked away.

=/\=

_The Next Day_

Trip was running down a dark corridor. He didn't know where he was going or what he was even running from, but was desperate to get away. Something was in the corridor with him and he was afraid.

"Why are you afraid?" He could hear E'Vaine's voice asking him. "Is it the darkness? Do you fear the darkness?"

"No!" he shouted as he continued to run. His heart was beating rapidly and he was out of breath. He held a hand to his chest. "I don't know!" he shouted. "I don't know!"

"Yes, you do," she retorted. "Stop running away and open your eyes!"

Trip glanced over his shoulder. There was nothing chasing him, but it sure felt like something or someone was. He slowed down and eventually stopped running. He bent over, his hands on his knees. trying to catch his breath. "Open my eyes," he whispered. "Open my eyes."

He then stood up, full strength, and turned around. And there she was.

He jumped, startled – though he shouldn't have been. Hadn't she been here last time, waiting for him?

"Hello Trip," Charles said.

"I'm sorry," Trip said. "I didn't want you to die! If I had known what you were gonna do, I would have never…"

"But you did!" Charles said. "You went against protocol, did what you thought was best! You tried to force your way of life, onto me, my people!

"I'm sorry!" Trip shouted in anguish. "I'd do anything to take it all back. To do things differently!"

Charles stood there for a moment. Then started laughing. "What do you want from me, _forgiveness_!"

"No! Yes! I don't know! I just don't want to see your face when I try to go to sleep at night, anymore!"

"You'll never be free of me," the cogenitor replied. "I will always be here, trapped in the reservoir of your mind, reminding you of your sin, of your crime! Murderer! _Murderer!_"

Then suddenly, the scene changed.

"I'm Ah'Lyiah," the little girl said. "Your daughter. The one you left behind."

"You are not my daughter!" Trip replied forcefully. "Phlox said you didn't have my DNA! He…said you were _not_ my child!"

"And you believed him?" the child asked. "You didn't even try to find out for sure. You hated me, you wanted me to die."

"No, that's – that's not true! I – I carried you for two whole weeks so you could live," he stammered. "If we never found your mother, I would have delivered you!"

"No you wouldn't have," she said angrily. "You had a plan and I know what it was! You were going to kill me!"

"No!" Trip said. "Sure, I thought about it! I never would have gone through with it. But I had to explore all my options!"

Suddenly someone tapped him on his shoulder. "Aren't you glad to see me again?" Sim asked.

"See you again! I never stopped goddamn seeing you. I see you every damn time I look in the mirror!"

"And you're an ungrateful son-of-a-bitch!"

"I _am_ grateful!" Trip said. "It's just, I never would have wanted someone to die for me!"

"But somebody did, didn't they. Oh, poor Trip, boo hoo! Sim died to save his sorry ass and he can't handle it!"

"Why don't you leave me alone!" Trip shouted. "I just want to be left alone!"

"You stupid bastard!" Sim snapped. "You came lookin' for me. Bringin' all your anger and your guilt in here with ya! Tryna punch me out! Like I said, I'm always gonna be here, in your head, literally! Deal with it! But oh, I forgot, you _can't, _can you!"

"I'm tryin' to! I want to, but it's too painful…it hurts too much. Oh God," he said sliding to the floor. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Let me help you sir." Ensign Masaro bent over him, reaching a hand out to his former senior officer. Trip could still see the phase pistol blast in the young man's mid-section.

"Get away from me, you traitor! You lying, twisted fuckin' killer!"

Masaro gazed back at him with wide, reproachful eyes. "Am I the killer, sir? Or, are you? I mean, you've killed a whole lot of people or at least been responsible for their deaths. I was only responsible for one."

"_Get away from me!"_ Trip cried out, getting to his feet and backing away. But he simply stumbled into someone else.

"Why is remembering me such a problem for you?" Lorian asked as he held on to his father.

"Lorian! I…I don't know! It just is, that's all!"

"But I'm not here to accuse you. I just want to be free of the dark place. Why can't I come to the forefront?"

"Yeah _big brother_," Lizzy growled as she approached. Or the burned thing that used to be Lizzy, because now she was unrecognizable. "I'd kinda like to get out of this black hole myself."

"Oh no Lizzy, no! I can't stand seeing you like this. Imaginin' what you must have gone through. Knowing I wasn't there for you!"

"You were never there for me!" she said through charred lips. "You ran off and went out into space and never looked back. Even though I begged you not to."

"That's not true, Lizzy!" Anger surged up through the guilt. "I wrote to you, I called you! I saw you every time I came home!"

"And how often was that, Trip?" she demanded. "You spent every free moment you had chasin' T'Pol. She was the only thing you cared about!"

"That's a lie Elizabeth! I loved you, I still love you!"

Tears ran down her blackened, blistered cheeks from the eyes that weren't there anymore. "Not enough to show up for my memorial!"

Trip closed his eyes. Why was Lizzy so mad at him? Did she really believe he didn't care? It was tearing him up that he would never really know if she understood why he had stayed away, why he couldn't come to her memorial and face the family. They all blamed Starfleet for her death. And he was Starfleet, so they blamed him. In his mind, Lizzy did too.

He spun away from her and started running. E'Vaine had warned him about running away, but he just couldn't stay there looking at his kid sister, burned beyond recognition, and listen to her accusing him of not loving her enough.

But when he reached the main corridor, he was surprised to see who came out from one of the dark places.

He stopped running and stumbled, almost running into his reflection. At first he thought Sim had come to torment him some more, then he realized he had just run into himself.

"What is this? Who the hell are you?" Trip demanded. This version of himself was wild-eyed, had long, straggly hair and a deformity on one side of his face. He was unshaved and wore dirty, smelly, tattered clothing. He walked with a limp and couldn't straighten up.

"Sim was right, you _are_ a stupid son-of-a-bitch. I'm you, idiot!" the broken, injured Trip snarled.

"What's the matter with you? I mean, with me? What the hell's _wrong _with me?"

"You know better than anybody! You're fucked up, that's what! You're losing your grip on reality! This is it, this is where we're gonna end up, buddy! This is our future," he said, widening his arms out. "But hey, there's more, here," he went on, and was suddenly holding something small, wrapped in a blanket. The baby started to cry, and suddenly the corridor was filled with crying, hungry, abused children.

"No!" Trip cried out. "No, no, _no!_"

"That's it," Lizzy jeered. "Run away! You've always been good at that!"

Trip put his hands against his ears and screamed as he slid to the floor. He couldn't bear it. All of his failures, all of his pain was confronting him, overwhelming him. He forgot he was in the mindscape. He could not hear E'Vaine's voice trying to guide him to safety. He started to fall, deeper and deeper into the abyss. Once again, the Vulcan reached out for him. But this time, she couldn't catch him.

=/\=

_Enterprise_

Jon was furious. He'd sent Trip to Zenaria Prime for rest and relaxation, moreover for psychological help from a universally renowned doctor. Now, the engineer was in a coma, having apparently participated in some damned secret, mystical, deep-mind probe. How would he explain this to Trip's family, to Starfleet?

Phlox felt terrible as well. He had recommended E'Vaine to Trip, vouched for her. Now, this. He'd trusted his old friend, but he knew nothing of her unorthodox practices. She had sent a communication to him advising that Trip was in a deep comatose state, and that he might not ever wake up.

Malcolm was also angry. He didn't feel that Trip deserved to meet his end like this. He would have like to have seen his friend experience some happiness again after he had suffered so much.

T'Pol was beside herself. She was infuriated, and having a difficult time concealing it. She wanted to tear E'Vaine apart. How had things come to this? She knew she had hurt Trip deeply by her actions. But each decision she'd made where he was concerned had not been made in order to cause him pain. She sincerely thought she was doing what was best. Now she knew better.

After receiving the communication about Trip's condition, _Enterprise_ headed for Zanaria Prime. When they were close enough for a live communication, they contacted E'Vaine.

"We're bringing him back to the ship!" Jon snapped at the two people on the view screen. "And we're getting out of there as quickly as possible. But not before I have a conversation with your superiors and your government!"

"Have whatever conversations you deem necessary and file whatever complaint you desire against me and my colleague, but it would be unwise to take the commander away now," Dr. Vacosa replied. He was the Chief Medical Officer at the University hospital.

"And why, may I ask?" the Captain asked through his teeth.

"If there is any hope of his awakening, it will be because he remains on this planet under my care and Dr. E'Vaine's," The doctor answered as though it was the most natural thing in the world that having put their patient in this situation, he should be left with them.

"E'Vaine is not going anywhere near him again!" T'Pol said loudly, her posture threatening and her fists balled – however illogical that might be when the planet and the facility on it was still some considerable distance away.

"Participating in the mind-probe was his decision," E'Vaine said calmly. "I understand that this is difficult...seeing him like this."

"'Difficult'!" Malcolm snapped. "It's bloody impossible!"

"Malcolm, T'Pol!" Jon interjected. "Calm down. I've got this under control."

Reed made an exasperated sound and T'Pol tried to straighten herself up and clasp her hands behind her back. But she was still on the verge of exploding.

Jon then turned back to Dr. Vacosa and E'Vaine (Phlox stood listening, but had not spoken as of yet). The captain held his hand up. "Look," he said. "We sent him there for help. Things didn't work out. Trip can't speak for himself right now, so I'm speaking…"

"I believe that would be _my_ responsibility," T'Pol said interrupting. "After all, I am his wife!"

"Actually, I think all decisions concerning Mr. Tucker's care from this point lie with me," Phlox finally spoke up, his voice as loud as it had to be to put his point across when everyone else seemed to have something to say. "I have obviously made a horrible mistake by encouraging him to go there, but I am still the Chief Medical doctor on _Enterprise_ and therefore am still ultimately responsible for his health and wellbeing as long as he is a serving officer."

"None of you will be assuming such a role," E'Vaine replied, looking at each of them. "And trying to remove him by force will not be tolerated."

"Is that a threat?" Malcolm demanded, stepping forward with _that_ look on his face. "We will not be intimidated!"

"No one is trying to intimidate you." Vacosa sounded annoyed. "If everyone would just please calm down?

"I believe I can help resolve the question of who is now responsible for Mr. Tucker and what happens from this point forward. Captain, all of you, I need to send you something."

Jon looked at the doctor and at E'Vaine, then he turned to his angry officers. He knew he had to get control of this situation. "Go ahead," he finally said. "Five minutes, you have five minutes."

"Captain!" T'Pol said.

"I said five minutes, T'Pol!" Jon snapped. "Doctor."

The doctor then transferred a subspace file directly to _Enterprise_, and Hoshi patched it to Jon in his ready room. He switched on his monitor and Trip's face appeared on the screen.

"Okay," he began. "If you're listenin' to this it's 'cause somethin' didn't go as we'd hoped and I'm either in a coma or already dead."

Jon looked down, hands loosely clasped on his desk, while Malcolm stood stoic with his arms crossed across his chest. T'Pol shot E'Vaine a look that could have cut steel, and then quickly looked back at the screen.

"But don't blame E'Vaine, Dr. Vacosa or anyone else, alright? After all, I came here under the pretext of taking a long vacation and teaching engineerin' at the college. I was mad as hell when I found out you all'd tricked me into comin' here in hopes the doc was gonna get a hold of me. Well she did. So your plan worked! I didn't say that to make anybody feel guilty though. You were right, I needed help.

"Over the time I've been here, E'Vaine's become one of my dearest friends. She's also been helpin' me try and deal with all my shit.

"Look, I've been a wreck for a long time. I was desperate for some kind of relief, I just never knew how much help I really needed. An' even when I knew it, I was too goddamn proud to admit it, even to my self, but finally I just didn't have any choice. That's why I agreed to the mind-probe.

"Maybe if I'd had another six, seven months, or hell, a couple of years even, maybe I would've benefited from traditional type treatment methods. But I was offered an opportunity to try somethin' radical, so I did. I knew and understood the risks. I signed a 'Release and Hold Harmless' document with full knowledge that this thing could kill me.

"But Jon, I didn't feel like I had anything to lose. I was on a path of self-destruction and I was desperate.

"If I'm dead, I guess this is goodbye. I've recorded individual messages for each of you to view whenever you're ready, and some for my family too. I've also left instructions for my funeral and all that. I'd like Malcolm to take care of that for me."

Everyone turned and looked at the Brit, shocked. So was he, evidently.

"If I'm in a coma, I'd like to stay on Zenaria for another 72 hours under Doc Voc's and E'Vaine's care. But I'd like Phlox to be a part of that too. I understand that if I'm gonna wake up, it'll more than likely happen within three days. You see, this planet has healing properties, from what I'm told. Maybe that's a myth, maybe it's for real, I don't know. But like I said earlier, what have I got to lose?

"If I don't wake up, Jon, I'm countin' on you to get me back home. Malcolm can take it from there.

"Anyways, that's it in a nutshell, folks. I hope to see ya'll soon.

"By the way T'Pol, I still love you."

Then the screen went black.

=/\=

Enterprise was on its way to Zanaria Prime, traveling at warp four for much of the time. It would take them three more days to get there. They had received reports that Trip still had not woke up. So, Jon started making arrangements to have him taken home. He had tried a couple of times to start writing a letter to his parents, then thought that they deserved to hear the news, whatever that might be, from him personally.

Phlox had prepared a stasis unit for the engineer's transport back to Earth and Malcolm was contemplating what it meant to be the Executor of his best friend's last will and testament.

T'Pol had not eaten nor slept since they'd heard the news about Trip's condition. She had tried to meditate but found that task equally unmanageable. All she could think about was how she had finally lost Trip for good.

While his friends back on Enterprise prepared for the worst, E'Vaine held out for the best possible outcome. She sincerely believed Trip would wake up and midway through the third day, he did.

=/\=

She was there waiting when he stirred to consciousness. She came over to the bed where he lay and leaned on the rail, looking down at him.

He held his hand to his head a moment, then through reddened and sleepy eyes, turned and looked up at her.

"_You_ are truly a remarkable individual Mr. Tucker," E'Vaine said as tears brimmed her eyes and she suppressed the urge to shout for joy. She had really become fond of him and it would have hurt her deeply if he had not come back.

Trip went to sit up, but E'Vaine gestured for him to stay still. But he propped himself on his elbows and did something that she was totally unprepared for and quite frankly, stunned by it.

With a sense of urgency, and determination, in a groggy voice, he asked her… "you ready for round three?"


	18. Chapter 18

**_Author's Note: _**_I'd like to give a shout out to my wonderful beta, LoyaulteMeLie, who has put aside her own work to review mine; nothing but love and appreciation for her! I'd also like to give Annastesia Lafayette a shout out as well. She gave me some great ideas for some of my plot points. This is a long chapter, but we're at a crucial point in the story. I hope you enjoy! Bri_

* * *

_Breaking Through_

"I cannot believe you expect me to take you back into the mindscape!" E'Vaine protested. "You have only just awakened from what could have very well been the sleep of death!"

"I can get through it," the engineer said in a raspy voice. "I've got to go back."

"No, you do not!"

"Do we have to have this argument again?" Trip asked, frustrated.

"I do not wish to see you damaged Trip," the Vulcan said softly, clearly trying to suppress her emotions. "The first time you went into cardiac arrest, the second time resulted in your becoming comatose. If you are unable to make it through again, I am certain you will either be left with brain trauma, in a coma from which you will not awake…or you will die!"

"The risk's acceptable," Trip replied flatly.

"Listen to me. When I told your captain that you were in a coma as a result of the mind probe he was infuriated. I received a severe scolding from Phlox, and T'Pol wanted to rip me apart! They were so upset that they informed me they were going to remove you from here no matter what I said. They are on their way as we speak."

He folded his arms. "But they don't even know I'm awake, right? Well what they don't know won't hurt 'em. I say, let's not tell 'em. That way, if something happens and I don't come back this time, nobody'll be the wiser."

"No. I will not do it!" E'Vaine said, firmly.

"Oh, c'mon E'Vaine!" Exasperated, Trip started raising his voice. "You know you wanna do it! You're not gonna tell me you don't find this fascinatin' and intriguin'! You _jump_ at any chance you get to go into that mindscape! And you've never taken _anyone_ in there three times! So why won't you just admit this will be a new experience for you and you don't wanna pass this opportunity up?"

The Vulcan looked stunned for a moment.

"I've been in your head too, remember?" he reminded her with a lopsided grin.

E'Vaine hesitated. He noticed she didn't push back. "That doesn't mean I want to see you harmed. I have grown very fond of you, Trip. You remind me of someone I care for very deeply…my son," she said softly.

"The one you haven't seen in thirty years." Yeah, it was a low blow, but it was his future he was fighting for, and he had to use any weapon that came to his hand.

E'Vaine looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and wished he hadn't had to remind her.

Then they were silent for a few moments. "Nobody's ever told me I reminded them of a Vulcan," Trip finally said, by way of a peace offering.

She smiled rather sadly. "Like you, he had a brilliant mind, yet he was content to hold himself back, refusing to be all that he could be; stubborn beyond reasonableness, very…emotional. But strong and resilient!"

"You know you're the second person to tell me I'm holding myself back! Tyrell said something' like that to me."

"Tyrell was very discerning."

"Alright, alright," Trip said, swerving away from a subject that still pained him. "We're getting off the subject."

"I just don't want to see anything happen to you, Trip!"

"Nothin's gonna happen to me."

"You say that as you sit there having just awaken from a coma!" the doctor pointed out with a scowl. "I do not wish to be responsible for your death!"

Well, she had a point. And Trip, whose troubles were rooted in so many deaths, could understand that she didn't want the burden of his. But he couldn't let that argument win – he just couldn't.

"Look Evie," he began, his voice more conciliatory. "I appreciate everything you've tried to do for me, I do. For the last couple of months we've talked about a lot of things and there were times when I really felt like I was on the verge of a breakthrough. But you were right about the mindscape. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before. And I tell you, it's something about seein' inside your own head; seein' all your dark thoughts, your fears, your pain, as if in the flesh. I know if I can face them without fallin' apart, I'm gonna make it through. I'll make it out okay, and I'm gonna be better because of it…So, please, I'm askin' ya. Stop tryin' to mother me and put your radical, unorthodox, psychiatrist hat back on and help me finish what I started."

He watched her as she stood there with her arms folded across her chest. She looked down at the floor for a long moment, and then started pacing in small circles.

"You are truly a stubborn individual!" she finally said – to which he could only smile a weak smile; he could hardly deny it.

She paced around for a few moments more. "If I agree, it is against my better judgment!"

Trip still didn't speak, but just followed her with tired eyes.

"Oh, very well!" The doctor heaved a sigh, moving over closer to the bed. "We will begin in four hours."

"Four hours!" He was aghast. "I don't need to rest! I've been asleep for two and a half days!"

"You need to eat, to shower and change, and wait until your head no longer hurts." She frowned down at him, her voice so firm he knew this was non-negotiable. "You will need all your strength for this. And I may need to locate new employment and a new planet to reside on.

"Until then," she said.

Then she left, and he listened to her footsteps retreating down the corridor.

=/\=

_Four Hours Later._

_E'Vaine's Office. _

"Before we begin this time, I want to share some things with you that I believe will be helpful to you," E'Vaine started. "For one, you have to realize that everything that you experience, the version of everyone that you have encountered up till now, has been conjured up by your own mind."

"But everybody in those corridors are real people," Trip objected with a small frown. "They're part of my memories."

"These are not _memories_, Trip," the Vulcan replied. "We are exploring the deep, dark places in your mind, and what you are encountering are the false and inaccurate representations of people from your painful life experiences."

"I hurt those people! I let them all down! That's why they're accusin' me, remindin' me of my failures, my sins, my crimes!"

"Trip!" E'Vaine reached her hand over and covered one of his hands with hers. "This is exactly what I mean. You are simply experiencing what your mind has created with negative self-talk, abasement and guilt. You have suppressed your true memories in an effort to avoid them, and as a result, replaced them with your dark thoughts."

Trip listened quietly, considering what was being said. She was an expert in her field, so presumably she knew what she was talking about – but there was a huge difference between hearing something and accepting it.

"Do you really believe the Charles blames you for her death? That the Xyrillian child is somewhere out there hating you because you considered aborting her? That Sim thinks you're ungrateful and that your life wasn't worth saving?"

Trip still didn't speak, he just listened to the doctor as he fiddled with his hands.

She hesitated a moment and then continued.

"Why can't you see your sister as she lived? Why does she appear to you as a burned corpse? It's because you believe she suffered greatly in her last moments and you blame yourself because weren't there to save her."

This was deeply painful, but he forced the words out. "The last…last time I spoke to her…we argued. She didn't want me to go back out into space because she thought it was too dangerous, that I was gonna get myself killed. I told her that she was more likely to get killed right there in her front yard than I was out in space." He laughed bitterly. "I suppose I was sorta denyin' the dangers out there even to myself, but turns out I was right!"

"And you've tortured yourself for being right ever since."

Trip just looked down. His fingers were moving more agitatedly now, almost writhing together.

"When we reenter the mindscape, you _mustn't _allow the people you encounter to confront you and accuse you. You must recall events as they truly happened and confront them with that truth."

Trip nodded his head. "I'll try," he finally said.

"No, don't try. Do it! And whatever happens, do not run away! _You_ created these disturbing images and false memories, only _you_ can destroy them. This will be your final opportunity…

"Now, let's begin."

=/\=

A few minutes later, they were back in the mindscape.

The scene attempted to play out as it had twice before, but this time Trip didn't allow himself to experience the happy, safe, beautiful memories and places in his mind, luring him into trust and vulnerability. Instead, he went directly to the dark corridors.

Charles accused him, Sim berated him and called him stupid, and the Xyrillian child exposed his secret once again. But this time, he didn't run away; he stood his ground and took the abuse. E'Vaine had said he had to look these things in the face – these _imaginary_ things of his own creating – and call them out on their lies.

But it was his children that broke him down. He had imprisoned Lorian's memory without cause, and he had not been able to bear to see Elizabeth's face, so he had forgotten it. His brain had simply shut the pictures in a cupboard and locked it.

Then there was Lizzy, almost as dear, and just as accusing. "We were your family," she said, her voice low and accusing. "We deserved better than what you gave us in life and we deserve better now. But you can't give it, can you, big brother?"

"I don't know what you want from me!" Trip cried out in anguish, holding out his hands. "I'm so sorry I failed you all!"

"You didn't fail me," Lorian said levelly. "You've just forgotten me. I don't deserve to be in the dark space, but you put me there just the same."

"It's just been too painful to remember you." If only he could explain, make them see that he hadn't meant any of it to happen…

"And what about me?" the Xyrillian child demanded. "You don't even know if I survived or not! But you didn't care enough to try and find out! You are just so _consumed_ with your own shame!"

"Shame?" Trip replied, dazed.

"Yes, shame! That's what I am to you – what I represent. My mother made you look a fool on your ship, and in front of those Klingons, and you've never forgiven me for it."

Then he heard a baby crying. He started to turn around and around, trying to tell where the sound was coming from. "It's Elizabeth!" His voice rose frantically. "Where is she? Where's my baby girl? She needs me! Why can't I find her?"

She wasn't there. She never would be there. He put his hands over his ears and stumbled against the wall, trying to block out the sound of her wails.

"Trip!" He heard someone calling him in the background – E'Vaine's voice, desperate. "Focus; you must focus and take control of the situation! Remember, these are not memories, they are your own dark thoughts and only you can change them, using the truth!"

Then suddenly, as before, the ground slid away from under his feet and he started to fall. He screamed as he plummeted into the deep, dark abyss.

E'Vaine continued to call out to him, to try and bring him back, but her voice was going further and further away and he couldn't hold on.

"Trip, you are stronger than this!" the Vulcan shouted. "Your mind is stronger than this! You must _think!_ And you must bring truth into reality! You must banish these thoughts or you will be lost!"

And even as he fell, he scrambled to focus and to think. It seemed as if the fall was lasting forever, but suddenly it started to slow, until it seemed as if he were falling in slow motion.

"I won't give up!" he shouted to the mindscape. "I'll just find a way to come back! It's not gonna end like this!"

_Focus, Trip!_ he told himself savagely. _Gotta get control of this situation! It. Is. Not. Gonna. End. Like. This!_

Then, in a millisecond, his mind cleared and his fear abated. He was still suspended somewhere between the deep, dark reservoir of his own mind and the abyss where a comatose state, brain damage or even death awaited him.

But now, his mind had cleared and his thoughts began to flow in an entirely different direction, reaching out for the truth that would save him.

He thought of Lizzy first. She would _never_ have talked to him that way, thought like that. Despite her fears of him dying out in space, she was a real optimist, not like him, who'd just been faking it through life these last few years if the truth were told. Oh, he had been at one time, the kind of guy that saw the glass half-full, rather than half-empty. But space had changed him, his experiences had turned him into someone he didn't even know anymore, nor like much either. Lizzy wouldn't blame him for deserting her, because he hadn't deserted her. Even if he'd been here, there was nothing he or anyone else could have done to save her. That scorched Lizzy in his mind _was_ an inaccurate representation of his sister.

How had he let her memory become tainted? It made no sense.

It made even less sense that he had hidden away the memory of Lorian, somehow seeing him as a negative – a source of pain. He'd never know what had happened to his son, or if he ever really existed in this time line, but he had met him, talked to him, worked with him, shared a laugh with him – and been proud of him. And for a short time, Lorian had been his son.

Then the penny dropped. He realized that thinking of how Lorian had disappeared had made him think that his missing child might never be found either. _That_ was the connection,_ that's_ why he couldn't allow himself to think about Lorian.

He thought about the Xyrillian child, and how he had specifically asked Phlox not to remove the child from his body if it would hurt her. But one thing his nightmare version of her was accurate about – he _was_ deeply ashamed about her, and about the entire incident. He would have to deal with that.

Then he thought about Sim. He felt so guilty that another person had died so he could live. But it had not been his decision. That was fact, and that was the truth! And he really needed to confront the people who had made the decision. No one would talk to him about Sim, but that was going to change.

Then Elizabeth came to mind, and he remembered the sweet, beautiful baby that he didn't consent to having, that he didn't know about until it was too late, and the one that died right before him. But for a few weeks, just a short time, he'd had her, held her, changed her and fed her… and loved her. He needed to hold on to those memories, every single minute of them, and remember the joy Elizabeth had brought to his life. But he thought of her dying, Lorian disappearing and now this new, missing child, whom he might never even get to see, and a dark thought overcame him: that his greatest fear had come upon him – that he would never be a father, because he was unworthy.

Then he was falling again. And, as he was falling into the endless pit of depression and death, he made a decision, not to give in to the darkness. "No, no, no!" he said. "It's not true, it's not true! _None_ of it is true!" And, right then and right there, he decided not to slip away; he decided not to allow himself to come out of this experience damaged. Moreover, he was _damned_ if he'd die through it. He wouldn't give the goddamn thing the satisfaction!

"Give me your hand, Trip!" he could hear E'Vaine shouting. "I will pull you out – hurry! Give me your hand!"

"No!" Trip called out furiously. "I don't want your help! I need to do this myself!

And suddenly he wasn't falling, but seemed to be hanging on the side of what seemed like the wall of the mindscape. It was akin to the side of a mountain range. He held on to the crevices even though his hands hurt and he felt like he'd been hanging on for hours. He slipped a few times, but he continued to hold on. He held on until his hands bled, but he didn't let go. He was able to pull himself up the side of the dark cliff until he reached the top. Finally, he pulled himself over the edge.

=/\=

When he had pulled himself over the top, he lay out, sprawled on the floor on his back. He was exhausted, and lay there breathing deeply for a couple of minutes. When he finally rolled over and stood up, they were all there waiting for him, standing silently in a circle around him. He looked into each of their eyes.

"Something's changed," Trip said. "The perspective's changed. What's happenin?"

"The dark places are no more," E'Vaine's voice said.

"But they're all still here," he replied, looking at all of his painful memories in the flesh – at least the mindscape flesh.

"What would you say to them?" she asked. "Speak to them. Say those things that you never got to say-speak truth and light to them."

Trip then slowly turned toward Charles. A surge of sadness coursed over him, but he refused to let himself entertain it. He approached the cogenitor, looking her directly in the eyes. "Charles, I'm so sorry," he began. "I saw your way of life and thought you deserved more. I still think that – it's just that I had no right to judge it, or to interfere with the only thing you'd ever known. It was irresponsible and foolish of me. I know I didn't directly cause your death, that was your decision. But my actions contributed to your decision, and for that I'm profoundly sorry. If I had it to do over again, I would have more respect for your culture and your people. I might have tried to change things, sure, but in the right way – slowly, the way they should be done. I finally get that, and the only way to prove I do, is to make sure I never make a mistake like that again." Smiling a faint, sad smile, Charles' image faded away.

He turned to Sim after that. "I had no idea that you had been created to save my life. It never should have happened. You _shouldn't_ have had to sacrifice yourself for me. If there was any way I could have let you live, I would have. But I didn't have any control over the decisions that were being made for me at the time. I just wish I could have gotten to know you, so I could remember you, because you deserve to be remembered. I intend to find out about you though, and honor you in the right way. Thank you, Sim, for my life." Sim then faded away. He smiled too, as he went, though it was strangely unsettling seeing that crooked grin, like an image in a mirror taking on a life of its own.

Trip walked up to Ensign Masaro and put a hand on his shoulder. "Randy, I wish things could have been different. I wish you could have come to me and just told me how you felt. Maybe we could have talked it out, I don't know. I'll be honest, part of me feels like you got what you deserved because my baby girl didn't get to live, so why should you?"

"I know that's wrong thinking. You were just a stupid, misguided kid and I have to forgive you. I know that now. And I have to forgive myself for killin' you." Then he hugged the young man. Ensign Masaro nodded, though without a smile, faded away into nothingness.

"Lorian," Now it was his own turn to smile. "Never again will I send you away. You brought me a lot of joy in that short time I spent time with you. I just wish we we'd had more time together. From now on though, I'll just hold on to the time we did have. You deserve to be remembered too, son."

"Okay, Dad," His and T'Pol's child nodded. "Then I'll see you around." With that, Lorian turned and disappeared into a bright corridor.

Trip then approached the little girl who was called Ah'liyah, and hunkered down to speak to her on her level. "Honey, I'm sorry that I didn't want you and was so ashamed of you. And you were right, I considered aborting you because of my shame and humiliation. None of it was your fault though, you didn't ask to be conceived.

"But what happened to me wasn't my fault either… I know that now. I don't think it would be wise to keep holdin' on to the idea of you though. I've done it mostly out of guilt. You see, I think that if I'd had to deliver you, I would have resented you and wouldn't have known how to begin to love you, and you'd have lost the life you should have had with people who want you and need you – and understand who you are and what you need. And that's something I have a lot of thinkin' about to do, but I hope you're happy, wherever you are, and I'm sure you're a wonderful child." With that the little girl leaned forward, and he felt the faintest impression of a kiss on his cheek before she faded away.

The only one remaining was Lizzy, who was standing to one side, holding baby Elizabeth wrapped in a pink shawl. She approached her brother, smiling fondly up at him. "It's okay to remember her now," she said.

Trip leaned over and looked at the cute baby girl with the pointed ears and the blue eyes, who was sucking her thumb. The one who'd captured his heart the instant he'd set eyes on her, so that a part of it had left with her and he knew he'd never get it back.

"That's her," he said, past the lump in his throat. "That's my girl. Hey, Beautiful, I can't believe I forgot what your face looked like. Yours too." He smiled at his kid sister. "I'm sorry sis. I'll never forget the real you again."

"Thanks, big brother. About time you got yourself straightened out," she grinned. "You do know there's no way you could have saved me, right?"

"I know," he replied sadly. "But if I could have, I would have. I would have taken your place if I could."

"Don't do that, Trip," she replied, shaking her head. "You've come too far and worked too hard, and I don't wanna get sent back to the dark place, and neither does Elizabeth. We wanna be a part of your real memories; the ones that bring you joy! Will you remember us now?"

"Of course I will," he said, and kissed both of them on the cheek.

"Okay then Trip," Lizzy drawled. "I'm gonna take good care of her ya know. We'll be around." Then she turned and disappeared into the same bright corridor Lorian had taken.

Trip then saw all of the little children who'd been dumped into the lake by the Orions; they must have been just waiting in the background till now. He turned to them and kneeled down in front of them. "I wish that I could have saved each and every one of you," he said. "But that was impossible. I just hate so very much that you had to be taken away from your families and…and," he hesitated for a moment, getting choked up. "I hated that you had to die so young. You should have had a chance to live. But I know that you're okay now…cause you're all with your creator, whoever he is, and you'll never be in pain anymore. And that's comforting."

The children then faded away.

When everyone was gone, only one person remained. It looked like Sim, but not so much like him after all – "Who the hell are you?" Trip asked. puzzled.

"What?" the individual said. "C'mon Trip, after all this, you still don't recognize me? I'm you, knucklehead!"

Trip swallowed. "But you look so great. I mean you're healthy and whole, confident and well, you look pretty together. Your head seems really clear too…and you don't seem to be afraid, of anything!"

"Good, that's good!" Healthy Trip grinned at himself. "Now you're starting to recognize yourself! I've been waiting a long time for this. To come out of the shadows and to just be me. You've held me back for so long though, let your pain, your fears, your doubts, your so-called humility control me. It's time though, to be the real deal! To be the brilliant, extraordinary, truly gifted person I was created to be!"

Trip just grinned like a Hallowe'en pumpkin, feeling the weight finally roll off of his shoulders at last. "Okay," he responded, laughing, "I can do that!" Then he waited, but nothing happened. "Aren't you going to fade away now? Like the others?"

"Hell no!" Healthy Trip laughed joyfully back at him. "I'm not going anywhere! I'm here to stay. And now that you've set me free, I say let's go turn the universe upside down!"

With that, Trip found himself in a familiar and safe place, one that he used to remember and retreat to whenever he needed a little bit of home. He was on Tarpin Beach. He looked around and he remembered. Ever since the Xindi attack he had not been able to see his favorite place in the whole world – only a deep, hollow, burned-out ravine. And right there in the sand, with the cool breeze blowing and the water drifting slowly up to his feet, he fell to his knees, then laid out on the wet ground, buried his face in the fold of his arm…and cried.

=/\=

_E'Vaine's Office._

She moved over to where he lay on the floor sobbing and sat there next to him. She rubbed his shoulders and smoothed his hair.

"Let it go," she said. "Just let it all out, let go of the pain, all the anger, the despair. You've been holding onto it for so long. But you don't have to anymore. Just let it go."

And he did.


	19. Chapter 19

_Mending Fences_

_Enterprise _was on its way, and would arrive in just under three hours. In the meantime, E'Vaine had encouraged Trip to think about the broken relationships in his life. She had told him that he needed to speak to his friends face to face. But at least he was equipped to do that now.

While he waited for _Enterprise_ to arrive, he contacted his parents. The ship had been too far away at times for him to communicate with over live feeds, but now he'd decided to try something that could make deep space communication possible. The idea had actually been in his head for a long time, but he hadn't ever tried it to see if the thing would work. So, after modulating the subcarrier wave, he sent out a probe throughout the communications systems, and was able to get a signal. After boosting the signal and trying several times, he was surprised and delighted when he was finally able to reach Earth. The connection wasn't great, but it was good enough.

His mother cried as soon as he appeared on the screen. His father almost lost his composure, but managed to hold on to it. They hadn't talked to Trip in nine months. They'd never gone anything like that long before without talking to their son.

"Mom, Dad," Trip began remorsefully. They'd suffered so much pain already, and he'd given them even more.

Elaine Tucker put her hand to her mouth and let the tears fall immediately.

His dad cleared his throat before speaking, "Son," he said. "Y-you're looking well."

"Yes, you are!" Elaine agreed, mopping up her tears. "The last time we saw you, you were so thin; like you weren't eating enough! And you looked really tired. I told your dad that you weren't sleeping. I can always tell, you know! Your complexion looked dull too, and your eyes were glazed over…"

"'Laine!" Charles interrupted, giving her a hug. "You'll embarrass the boy."

"But you really look so much better now!" Elaine was too relieved to be stopped in mid-flow, but she wiped her eyes again and tried to control herself.

"Thanks," Trip replied with a small smile. "Dad, I, uh… I need to tell you something.

"You too mom, please listen, 'cause I really need to say this an' I need you to pay attention.

"I am so, so sorry…for the way I acted the last time I was home." On the screen he saw them listened intently, and he gulped and went on. "I wasn't myself. I was sick. I, uh… I'd been havin' some problems for a long time, and Captain Archer and Dr. Phlox, everybody, kept tryn'a get me to get some help. But you know me, a I'm stubborn sonofabitch when I want to be," he admitted, and laughed a little.

"Trip, we knew something had to be wrong," Charles finally said. "If you had been yourself, you would have never, ever would have acted the way you did."

"Like I said… I'm so sorry. If I could take back the terrible things I said…You raised me to be respectful and, and I was totally out of line and so very _dis_respectful…"

"You were hurting, son," Elaine interrupted. "We know that now. We wanted to be there for you, we just didn't know how at the time. We're sorry too…"

"No Mom, please don't apologize. I was wrong. I show up, drop a bomb shell on you and tried to force you, _demanded_ that you just accept it when you didn't even understand it. I was just so caught up in my own feelings and grief that I wouldn't consider anybody else's at the time. But, it's still no excuse for the things I said, for acting so stupid." Trip was letting the tears flow now, and they were such a relief as well as the acknowledgement of his own sorrow. "Dad you were right to kick me out. I just hope that you can forgive me eventually, and that in time, perhaps…I can come back home…"

"Trip, we forgave you the minute you were out of our sight," Charles said warmly. "And you can come home anytime you want. This is your home, son. You'll always be welcome here."

"We've missed you so much," Elaine cried. "When you didn't respond to any of our calls or messages, we were sick with worry. We finally broke down and called Jon a few months ago!"

"You did?" Trip looked surprised. "He never said anything."

"Don't be mad, Trip," Elaine said rather anxiously. "We hadn't heard from you in so long, we had to know you were alright."

"That's when he told us," Charles said. "He didn't give us any details, although we pressed him plenty to do so. He just said that you were in trouble; that you'd experienced a lot of tragedy over the last couple of years. Son, why didn't you _tell_ us? Let us help you?"

"I don't know Dad," Trip replied. At the time it had all seemed so perfectly reasonable, but looking back he couldn't make any sense of it himself. "I just tried to handle things on my own. But it was too much… then it got out of control. I lost myself…I didn't know what to do. I pushed everybody away, all my friends. Then I finally lost it…I just lost it completely.

"That's why I'm here. I'm uh, on a planet called Zenaria Prime. It's in pretty deep space, that's why this connection is so bad. Been here for about eight and a half weeks. Starfleet doesn't know. I'm on a personal leave, teachin' at a university and gettin' some help for my problems. But if it hadn't been for Jon and Dr. Phlox…well, let's just say, they helped saved my life."

Elaine began to cry again.

"Listen, Son," Charles interjected, "I don't care what you say, we owe you an apology too. We were wrapped up in our stuff too. So much so, we didn't have time for anyone else's pain. Actually, we've had to get some help too."

Trip was totally shocked, and showed it.

"I know, I know." Charles swallowed. "But Lizzy's death was so damned hard. We finally had to go talk to someone – we all did. We should have told you an' included you. But we were too busy judgin' your decision to stay in space rather than come home and drown in your sorrow with the rest of us. We left you all alone, Son, an' that wasn't right, that wasn't a lovin' thing to do. We weren't there for you. We're sorry."

Trip put his hand to his face and wiped the tears away. "Thank you," he finally choked out. "I don't ever, _ever_ wanna be cut off from you guys again. I couldn't handle that. I love you guys. And, and I'm gonna call Danny as soon as I hang up with you."

"He'd like that," Elaine said, smiling. "And we love you too, we never stopped. Now, Son, we need you to tell us about your Elizabeth. Can you do that?"

"I'd be more'n happy to. But, I have a whole lot more to tell you too." He tried to regain a bit of his composure.

"And send us picture of… our granddaughter," Charles said, a little tentatively. Trip smiled. "An' after that, you and I can have a private conversation…about her mother."

"A _private_ conversation?" Elaine protested.

"That's right," Charles said waving his wife away. "Man to man."

"How about 'father to son'?" Trip replied.

"Whatever you say, Son," Charles responded with a conspiratorial wink as Elaine continued to protest and fuss.

It was a good conversation.

=/\=

_Later That Day._

_Enterprise_ entered Zenaria Prime space just a little after 1700 hours. E'Vaine and Dr. Vacosa met Phlox, Jon, Malcolm and T'Pol at the airlock. They immediately took them to where Trip was.

Much to the surprise of the _Enterprise_ contingent, the engineer was awake, dressed, in his right mind, and flashing a wide grin.

"Trip!" Jon exclaimed, his eyes wide. "What… what's this? We thought you were…we were told you were…"

"In a coma!" Malcolm said finishing the sentence and looking equally amazed. "We didn't expect to see you up and about!"

"And looking quite well, I'd say!" Phlox grinned.

But Trip just laughed. "You guys are a sight for sore eyes too!" With that he hurried over and grabbed Jon into a big bear hug, followed by Malcolm (not taking 'no' for an answer), then Phlox. When they were through hugging and laughing, he caught sight of T'Pol, standing between Dr. Vacosa and E'Vaine, and just watching as if in disbelief.

When he caught her gaze, he stopped for a moment, and everyone went quiet. Jon just smiled, Malcolm winked, and Phlox looked as if he was taking notes to write a paper on Human-Vulcan relationships.

"Commander," she said, trying to sound neutral. But if he knew anything about her at all, 'neutral' was the last thing she was feeling. "It is agreeable to see you…you look, well and…and…"

With that Trip; rushed over and cupped her face in his hands, and planted a big kiss on her lips right in front of everyone. "It's 'agreeable' to see you too, darlin'," he told her with a big smile.

Clearly not having a single Vulcan clue what to do about it all, she just stood there, turning slightly green around the gills. "Indeed," she finally said.

And everyone laughed.

=/\=

_Later. Enterprise_

Trip had gone up to the ship briefly to say hello to Hoshi, Travis, Anna and the rest of his engineering staff. E'Vaine had even come along as he wanted to introduce her to his friends. But he wasn't ready to return to the ship full time. He had informed the captain that they were two weeks early; that he still had a week of classes and then a week of finals. He had every intention of finishing what he'd started there.

He and the captain had ended up agreeing that he would stay and charter a ride home or catch a cargo ship. _Enterprise_ would go on ahead. It would take them at least two weeks to get home, so depending on what transport he ended up using – probably something significantly slower than an NX class starship – Trip would not return to duty for at least another month.

E'Vaine had met all of Trip's staff and his friends, and had dinner in the captain's mess with the captain, Malcolm, Phlox and T'Pol.

T'Pol noticed how easily E'Vaine and Trip interacted, and couldn't help feel a twinge of jealousy. But Trip assured her, later, that although E'Vaine was a beautiful woman, she was old enough to be his grandmother and that there was no need at all to be jealous of her.

Before the doctor left the ship, she encouraged Trip to take the opportunity to talk to Phlox, Jon and T'Pol before the ship left orbit. Knowing that she'd never given him bad advice yet, he decided to do so.

=/\=

_That Night._

Trip sought Phlox out in sickbay after dinner.

"Doc!" he said, as he entered the double doors. "You got a few minutes?"

"For you Commander, always!" The Denobulan beamed. "It is so good to see you looking so well."

"I am well, Doc!" Trip replied. "I guess I have you to thank for that, in a way."

"The gratitude belongs to E'Vaine. She is quite remarkable, and so is that facility she works in."

"You have no idea Doc, you have just no damn idea." Trip leaped up on top of a bio-bed and sat down.

Phlox sat in a chair across from him.

"So, Commander, we need to talk, hmmm?"

"Yeah Doc, we do. First, I wanna thank you for helping to save my life."

"Come now Commander, it is my job…"

The engineer held up a hand. "No, no, I mean it. If you hadn't done what you did, forcing me to come here, I was gonna end up dead. You knew it an' I'm tellin' you were right. You knew it, an' you did everything you could to get me the help I needed, an' I will never forget that. So, please let me say thank you."

"You are very welcome, Commander." Phlox produced that unearthly, extra-wide smile that at first had seemed so unnerving but now was just a part of what made him so special.

But that wasn't all the story, so Trip leaned forward and continued seriously. "At the same time, I have mixed feelins' about how you went about gettin' me here. When I found out, I was infuriated – that I'd been lied to an' manipulated."

The Denobulan nodded. "Yes, well, I must say, I cannot dispute that deceit was used. But the captain and I were afraid you'd resign, and run off to who knows where in a very volatile state. We believed we'd run out of options. I regret that trickery was used, but I can't say that I'm entirely sorry about it. We wanted you to get help, which you did. That is what's important."

"I'd like to still be pissed off about it," Trip admitted. "But you're right. I understand why you did what you did. It wasn't like I was exactly bein' cooperative in tryin' to help myself."

"Look, I know you weren't tryin' to hurt me, so I tell you what, in the future, _I'll _refrain from being a stubborn fool and _you'll_ not ever lie to me and manipulate me again. Let's just be straight with one another, okay?"

"That sounds quite acceptable," the doctor agreed. "But let's get to the heart of the matter – the thing between us that we have never addressed.

"Let's talk about Sim."

Trip blew out a long sigh. The subject was still very uncomfortable. He got up and began to pace around the room.

Phlox could undoubtedly see his anxiety. But he was enormously patient, and waited till Trip had his thoughts under control.

The engineer closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, then returned to where he'd been sitting and stared the doctor right in the eye.

Phlox looked surprised and impressed, but then he'd never seen Tucker get his emotions under control in that manner and so quickly.

"Why'd you do it, Doc?" Trip asked calmly – not accusing, just wanting to know the truth. "Why did you create him…just to watch him die? To _kill _him?

"As long as I've known you, you've been a defender of all livin' things. Even that tentacle from that goddamn thing that stowed away on the ship an' snatched me and Jon an' Mike Rostov, you wouldn't let Malcolm hurt it, not even when that might have saved our lives. An' yet you made Sim, knowin' you were going to have to kill him.

"How could you do it?"

"Commander…Trip," he said, which was odd, as he never referred to Trip by his nickname. "I know I should have talked to you about Sim a long time ago. But I found myself unable to do so, because talking about him meant I had to think about him, and I did not want to have to think about him."

The humble admission allowed Trip to continue. "You see Phlox, that's the problem. Sim sacrificed everything. He put it all on the line. Now no one wants to even think about him. He deserves to be remembered. He at least deserves that!"

"You're right," Phlox conceded sadly. "But I have been too much of a coward to remember him. Because remembering hurts too much. I saw him grow in a chamber filled with amniotic fluid. I saw him open his eyes for the first time and take his first breath. I fed him, changed him and watched him grow into a man. All within two weeks. Then, I killed him. He was like my son, yet I killed him. I loved him, yet I killed him. It was my decision, my choice, my actions, and I have to live with the guilt of them all for the rest of my life. So, if it is any consolation to you, do not think I have not suffered because of what I did, and I will continue to do so … indefinitely.."

Trip saw the hurt, the sadness and conviction in the doctor's strange blue eyes, which met his without evasion. He had never seen him like that before. It was right then and there that he knew he had to put the Sim issue to rest, and forgive the man who had murdered him.

"Doc, I'm sorry. I didn't know how you felt." There was a moment of silence. "Do you think we can put this behind us?"

"I would love to do that,' Phlox replied. "But I must ask you first to please forgive me for contributing your pain and suffering."

Trip smiled a small smile. "I forgive you Doc. I just hope one day you can forgive yourself."

"Perhaps now I can begin to." The Denobulan smiled a little.

"But, before we move on, do you think –" Trip hesitated – "do you think you could tell me about him? I mean, I know he looked just like me. Hell, he _was_ me, but then again he wasn't. Would you please, tell me about him?"

For the next hour the two men talked about Sim, every detail, every event. From birth to the last day of his life. By the time they were finished, they were both in tears. It was painful and wonderful and horrific. Trip did make it clear to Phlox, however, that if anything like that ever happened again, he absolutely refused to have anyone else die for him. While he was grateful for his life, he did not want any other innocent to have to lose their lives on his behalf.

Then they tackled the subject of T'Pol and Elizabeth.

Trip was a lot more understanding about why Phlox hadn't told him about T'Pol's pregnancy. But he still had to talk it out, reveal how much it hurt him and messed him up. Phlox apologized, but this time could not promise that he would not do the same thing again under similar circumstances. Whatever version Denobula had of the Hippocratic Oath trumped everything.

When they were done talking, two hours had passed. Trip was satisfied, finally, about a lot of things, but mostly about Sim. He thanked Phlox for his honesty, and then, even though it was late, he left and made his way to Jon's quarters.

If he and Phlox had a lot to talk about, he and Jon had even more. But if his conversation with Phlox had been hard, Trip knew this conversation would be even harder. He wasn't sure if he and the captain would ever be the same again.


	20. Chapter 20

_The Big Fence_

Trip rang Jon's door chime, and the captain let him in.

Jon offered him a seat, and he took it. Then the captain sat on the edge of the bed, and when Porthos crept onto his lap, started pulling the dog's ears gently.

There were a lot of things unsaid between Trip and and Jon dating all the way back to the Xyrillian incident. That was where the conversation started.

"You didn't believe me, and you thought it was funny! It wasn't!" Trip had promised himself to keep a hold of his temper, but found himself starting to raise his voice.

"It wasn't that I didn't believe you, Trip," Jon tried to explain. "But put yourself in my shoes. You were _pregnant!_ What was I supposed to believe?"

"You were _supposed _to believe what I told you, that I never laid a hand on Ah'Len! That when I told you I didn't have consensual sex with her – I didn't have _any_ sort of sex with her! – I was tellin' you the truth!"

"You know, from where I was sitting, that was stretching it a bit."

The justice of that couldn't be denied, but it didn't help any. "Well it's the truth. It was then and it is now. I never touched her, I had no idea what she was doin'. The woman took advantage of me – she sexually assaulted me! And I was called a liar, laughed at and studied like a lab rat!"

Jon didn't respond at first, He just sat staring into space.

"I'm sure if it had happened to Hoshi or T'Pol," Trip went on bitterly, "things would have been a lot different. You'd have called it for what it was. But because it had happened to a guy – because it had happened to _me _– it was just something to laugh at."

He could tell that really brought it home for Jon; at a guess, he'd had never considered that Trip had been assaulted. A look of anger crossed his face, then a wash of guilt. "Trip," he said finally. "It never occurred to me…I never considered…that, that she…"

"That she raped me!" Trip shouted. "Well, let's tell it like it was! She did!"

"Damn it!" Jon said, hitting his fist into the bed. "How could I have been so oblivious? I sent you over there to help them, and they assaulted you!" Now the depth of his anger was showing as he finally got the full realization as to what had happened to his friend.

"Trip, I'm sorry," he said as he got up and paced around in short circles. "I sent you back over to that ship, alone, to have the operation, alone! I put you in harm's way again…after, after everything you'd already been through." Then he turned and looked at Trip. His eyes said it all; he finally, really did get it.

"And you're right, I thought it was funny. I can't believe I was so insensitive."

Trip looked away a moment. He almost felt sorry for Jon in that moment. "It really messed with me, ever since it happened," he said, low-voiced. "I didn't even know how much, until E'Vaine got me to deal with it.

"Do you have any idea how embarrassin' it is to have my name in Starfleet's record as the first male to ever get pregnant? After that, I was really insecure."

Jon sighed deeply. "All I can say is that I'm sorry, Trip. I acted like an asshole. I am just so, so sorry."

Then there was a long silence.

"Okay, now it's my turn." Trip finally broke it. "I've been torn up inside with guilt about the incident…with the Vissians. I know I put you in a bad position. I acted irresponsible and unprofessional. I'm sorry. The whole thing was so bad…I contributed to someone's death. I have to live with that."

"You don't have to bring that up again, Trip," Jon said, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "That was a long time ago. It's over and done with."

"No, it's not," Trip replied harshly. "We need to talk about it, really _talk_ about it. I mean, I know I was disciplined, that the whole incident is on my permanent record and all. But other than you givin' me that dress down, we've never _talked_ about it. We just acted like it never happened."

"That's because we put it behind us. Our friendship was stronger than one mistake. At least I'd like to think so."

"But actually, it wasn't," Trip stated emphatically, and rode on over Jon's look of confusion. "Look Jon, let's be real here. Right from the start, our friendship was always, mostly, superficial an' one sided. I mean, we had meals together, hung out an' had a drink together. But we talked mostly about work, _your _hopes and dreams, _your_ concerns and worries as it related to _Enterprise_. We watched water polo, a lot. A sport _you_ enjoyed. You asked about my family sometimes, even went home with me a couple of times. But our friendship was mostly about you. An' the truth is, if I hadn't been the caliber of engineer I am, I don't think you'd have given me a second glance."

Jon furrowed his brow at that. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he replied. "I don't agree, but apparently, you really believe that."

"What do you really know about me, Jon? I mean, really know?"

"A lot!" the captain said quickly. "I know you better than anyone."

"Really?" Trip raised an eyebrow ironically. "What's my middle name? Did you know I had a twin that died at birth? Did you know I have a mild heart condition that I take medication for? Starfleet didn't see it as disqualifying. Did you know I have seven degrees?"

Jon looked startled at that; he clearly didn't. He knew Trip was smart, he just didn't know how smart he was. All that had ever mattered to the Starfleet fly-boy was the guy's talent with warp engines.

"What's my favorite sport? My favorite food?"

"Pan fried catfish and pecan pie!" Jon blurted out. "So there, I knew that one, didn't I?"

Trip just stared at him until he had the grace to flush, and then they both laughed a little. "The point is Jon, you don't really know me that well at all. But that's not entirely your fault – you could say some of it was mine, because I just accepted the way things were. I kinda resigned myself to livin' in your shadow. I don't intend to continue doing that."

The captain looked a bit riled. "Okay, so maybe I don't know you as well as I thought I did. But Trip, I was an only child who grew up without a mother. I never had a lot of friends. I guess I don't know what _real_ friendship is, or how to be one. Because I sure thought we were close, at one time."

"We were closer than we are now," Trip admitted. "But you pushed me away in the Expanse. You made it clear that you didn't have time for friends, for me."

Jon lowered his eyes. "You're right," he said. "I pushed everyone away. I didn't want to be close to anybody, even you; especially you. Not after the whole…Sim thing."

"Okay…" Trip replied folding his arms across his chest. "Let's talk about 'the _Sim_ thing'." Then he hesitated. "It's just like I told Phlox, Cap'n: I never would have wanted anyone to die for me."

"I understand that Trip, but I was desperate. We thought Sim's life would terminate naturally after fifteen days. We were wrong. It was one of the toughest things I'd ever done, but we were too far gone with it at that point."

Tucker tried to keep control of himself, to stay objective. "I just don't know why you thought I would have wanted you to do something like that for me? I think you knew if I had the choice to make, I would never have chosen to kill him. From what I'm told, he had all my memories, my intelligence, my creativity. Why couldn't you just have kept him around?"

"He wasn't _you_ Trip," Jon said, looking at his friend. "Besides, I just didn't think we could complete the mission without you. I didn't think I could do it without you. I may not have known that you had seven degrees at the time, but I recognized genius when I saw it. And we needed yours in the Expanse."

"But you, everyone else, acted like he never even existed. Do you know how weird that is? How weird the whole thing was for me? The guilt was almost too much for me to bear. He _died_ because of me!"

"Trip, he was created in the first place because of you. Look, I'm sorry about Sim, I really am. Don't think I don't have my own guilt about him. I do. That's why…that's why I can't talk about him. It reminds me too much of what I became while we were in the Expanse."

"Yeah. The Expanse." Trip glanced down at his hands, concentrating on keeping them still. "You know, after the Xindi threat was over, when we got back home and we were regarded as heroes, I was so ashamed. I was ashamed of the shit we did in the Expanse, Cap'n. I didn't feel like a hero. I felt like a fucking liar, a thief and a murderer."

Jon paled with rage. "And you think I didn't! I stood there and accepted commendations and medals feeling like complete shit! But I did what had to be done. I made some hard decisions in the Expanse, some tough decisions. But, I did it to save us, to save Earth, and if you want the goddamn truth, I'd do it again!"

"How can you _say_ that?" Trip spat. "You know I've encountered an Illyrian here, and every time I see him I think about how we stole that warp core off that Illyrian ship! We acted like just a bunch of pirates, and here you sit saying you'd do it all again!"

"It was wrong! Okay! It was wrong! But, I had no choice! I would do anything to save Earth and if you'd been in command, maybe you'd understand that it's not all peaches and cream all the time. Sometimes your decisions, your actions might border on criminal…for the greater good. But it's not a question of keeping your hands clean, not when there are millions of people who are going to die if all you care about is keeping your damned conscience clean!"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Look Jon." Trip finally spoke, more quietly now. "I know how tough it was on you, and we were all changed by the things that happened in the Expanse. I know you're not a criminal."

"No, I'm just a monster, right?" Archer said bitterly. "I know I lost something out there Trip, and I've been trying to get it back ever since. I just don't know how. Maybe I never will get it back. Maybe I'll just have to live without it for the rest of my life."

There was another long, uncomfortable silence.

"So if we're both getting stuff off of our chests, now _I_ have a question," Archer said at last. "What the _hell_ did you think you were doing when you got involved with T'Pol?"

Trip looked shocked for a moment, but he knew they had to do this, so he said nothing at first as Jon went on angrily, "You know you had no business going there. At least you could have talked to me, confided in me. It was a kick in the head finding out when everybody else did. I mean all that going on right up under my nose, and I didn't have a clue."

"Well it wasn't like you and I were hanging out anymore. You were like an obsessed madman, with a one-track mind. You kicked me to the curb long before I gave up on us!"

"You know what Trip, you say our friendship was superficial, one-sided. Maybe it was when you break it down, but for me, for what I knew of friendship, _you_ were my friend! Actually, you were like a brother to me. Obviously you didn't feel the same."

Trip just sat silent.

"So, say what you want, but I chose you as my Chief Engineer, and wanted you as my first officer, not just because you were brilliant and deserved it, but because I regarded you as family. You helped make the mission happen when you helped me and A.G. steal the NX Beta. The mission would never have happened if you hadn't stood up to the brass about my father's engine, if you hadn't helped us make that first flight. I wanted you to be a part of my crew, wanted to explore the stars with my friend, my little brother."

There was still silence.

Jon continued. "I started to hear the rumors about you and T'Pol; noticed your behavior towards one another. A blind man could see something was going on, but I chose not to. When everything came out about Elizabeth, I just felt so stupid. I couldn't even explain it to Admiral Gardner. He questioned me you know, about the fraternization rules, about what was really going on aboard _Enterprise_. You made me look like a fool, like I didn't even know what was going on right under my own nose. She was your superior officer, Trip!"

"She wasn't Starfleet at the time! So maybe she outranked me, but we really weren't breaking the rules! And later on, when she got her Starfleet commission, we were the same rank."

"Technically, yes, but she was the First Officer and you were the second. Still, you made me look stupid and you didn't think a thing about it – or if you did, you sure didn't let it stop you." The silence closed down again for a moment, while both of them sat simmering. "How the heck did you two happen anyway? One minute you two were arguing over any and everything, the next you're…"

"It wasn't like that Jon. It started out perfectly innocent. She was just trying to help me out, that's all."

"Help you out?" the captain repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep, it was bad. I was… having nightmares… I thought I was losing it. She started giving me Vulcan neuro-pressure. It helped a lot. Helped me to relax, to sleep. I was able to keep going, to do my job. That's what you were relyin' on me for. What _everyone _was relyin' on me for."

"You could have come to me, Trip. You think I'd become that cold; that I was that much of a bastard?"

"Jon! You are so full of shit! No, I didn't think I could come to you!" Trip paused, drawing a long, raging breath. "You were obsessed with the mission. I didn't matter anymore, no one did. Nothing mattered but the damned Xindi!"

Jon obviously wanted to shout and argue back. He wanted to prove that Trip was wrong, that he hadn't become the monster that he must have seen in the mirror when they were out in the Expanse. But he didn't; he couldn't. Instead he looked away and hugged Porthos as though the dog was the only thing that could give him comfort.

"You're right, Trip," he finally admitted. "Like I said earlier, it was easier that way…no attachments, no family, no friends."

There was a long silence as Trip sat on the bed across from his Captain.

"Did you know… you've never even said it," he said in a low voice. "The thing that mattered most to me, you didn't say it, not once! Not then, not now! You've never said it!"

"Said what?" Jon asked, dragging his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about! What did I not ever say?"

Trip hesitated, he was trying desperately to maintain his composure. Jon had hurt him deeply. So deeply that he had never even been able to say it out loud to anyone, not even himself.

"That you were _sorry_," he finally whispered. "That she…that she died. That Lizzy was gone. She was m-my sister…my little sister, and you never even took the time to acknowledge her, to give your condolences. Duty, the mission, Starfleet, all that bullshit was more important… than _my sister dying!_"The tears were flowing freely now.

Jon frowned and tilted his head, thinking for a moment. After knowing him so long, Trip could almost hear his thoughts. Surely he had said it, hadn't he? How could he be so callous as to never tell his best friend that he was sorry for the most personal, intimate loss of his life?

But he hadn't. And it was kind of good to see that hit him, and to see that it hurt. To see his vanity and self-centeredness punctured for once. As cruel and maybe even wicked as it was, it went some way towards evening the score.

"Trip", Jon choked out, "I-I don't know what to say…how could I have not said it? I thought I did, b-but I guess I didn't. I mean, now that you've put it out there, I can't remember saying it. Damn it!" He hit himself in the head, hard, and then winced – not because of the pain, but because that was just a gesture, and he knew it as well as Trip did. "I'm sorry, Trip…I'm so, so sorry, for your loss, for Lizzy. I know she meant the world to you. I-I just don't know how I could have not ever said it." He was in tears now, too.

Trip got up from the bed and put his hand on Jon's shoulder. "It's alright," he said softly at last. "I just needed to know you still regarded me as more'n your Chief Engineer, another staff member. That's how I felt."

"I don't care what you say Trip, you'll always be the little brother I never had, always."

"Is that why you think you always know what's best for me? Like when you and Phlox tricked me into coming here?"

Jon glanced up. "You were sick," he said. "And you were not being very cooperative about getting help. We were desperate. And desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Well that's a big fat cliché!" Trip observed with a small laugh. "I didn't appreciate it at the time. As a matter of fact, I was pissed off as hell when I found out about what ya'll had done. That's why I left you that sub-space comm, tellin' you exactly what I thought."

"What sub-space communication?" the captain asked, looking perfectly oblivious.

"The one I sent a few days ago. I told you and Phlox just what I thought of you, and I didn't mince words either. Then I quit."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Trip frowned. Now he came to think about it, Phlox hadn't mentioned it either. Had he actually sent it?

Maybe he hadn't. In that moment, he was glad, too.

Then there was silence for a while.

"You think we can move past all this?" Jon asked, breaking it.

Trip nodded. "I'd like to try," he said. "But I still have one more thing to say to you."

Jon's suddenly wary expression said 'What the hell else have I done or not done?'.

"I owe you an apology, for all the things I did over the last few months when my judgment was impaired, for falling apart…"

"Trip…don't–"

"No, let me finish," he interrupted. "Anyone else would never have put up with me, an' all things considered, I guess that proves that you really do regard me as more than just another hired hand. I've really put you an' Phlox in a precarious position with your careers, the way I've behaved. But I swear to you, I won't let either of you take the fall for me, for covering for my mess, an' all my troubles. If you want me to resign, I'll do it right now. I won't let either of you have to answer for trying to protect me from myself. Just say the word, an' I'll do it, I'll resign my commission, an' you won't have to keep fabricating your reports to Starfleet."

"It's all right, Trip. Phlox and I have it covered. Don't worry about it. You're better now, and all we have to report is that you took some time off and now you're better."

"You sure?" Trip asked, wary in his turn.

"Yes. Just keep taking care of yourself, and hurry up and come back to us, to your _family_."

"Well Jon, thanks." He heaved a sigh. "Thanks for everything. But when we get back home, after our leave, we're goin' to have to talk about my future with Enterprise."

"You mean you still want to leave?" Jon asked, puzzled.

"Not now, not right away. But eventually. I've got a lot of things I wanna do, that I _need_ to do. I need to get on with it. But I wanna do it the right way and at the right time. I don't wanna be a Chief Engineer forever, you know. I intend to see what else is out there."

Jon looked a bit sad and probably couldn't help feeling a little hurt. "Sure Trip," he said quietly. "Of course I'd hate to lose you. But I understand. You should explore your options, and I'll support you in whatever you decide."

"Thanks, Cap'n." Trip rose to leave and saluted. But Jon grabbed him and hugged him before he could exit, surprising the heck out of him. "Night, Jon." Trip returned the hug, smiled, then left the room.

He was feeling better about himself now than he had done for a long, long time.

=/\=

When he was alone again, Jon turned on his computer. He scrolled through his messages and found the one he was looking for.

He listened to Trip's wild rant again. It was like he didn't even know who that guy was. He closed his eyes, pinching his nose at the bridge. Then he looked at the screen, and deleted the message.


	21. Chapter 21

_Love's Journey_

T'Pol and E'Vaine had a long talk while _Enterprise_ remained in orbit.

They were alike in many ways. T'Pol envied how well E'Vaine had integrated herself into a foreign society and how she had lived many years away from Vulcan, but had not lost herself. She, on the other hand, felt that she had done just that, lost herself – that she didn't even know who she was anymore. Trip had become everything to her, a Human. She had opened herself up to him, gone against everything she was, everything she had been taught, because she wanted to be with him. And for what? Had she lost him in the end?

It was late, 2300 hours. T'Pol had been to Trip's quarters twice to see him, and both times he wasn't there, but she knew he was still on the ship. She rang his door chime, for the third time this evening. This time, however, he answered.

"Hi ya T'Pol," he said, and leaned over and kissed her on her cheek. "Come on in, have a seat." He gestured easily to his bunk.

The Vulcan nodded and sat on one end of the bed; he sat on the other.

"Would you like something?" he asked.

"No thank you," she replied, trying to control an illogical urge to fidget.

"I was comin' to see you," he observed. "But when I saw how late it was, I thought I better wait until in the mornin'."

"I came by twice, earlier this evening." She glanced at him. "I would not have been able to sleep. I needed to see you."

"No problem – as you can see, I was up anyways." he smiled. Then there was silence, and his expression became serious. "We need to do this, you understand, right?"

"That we need to talk? Of course."

"Hey look, I know this is awkward, and hard…"

"Yes, this _is_ difficult," she interrupted. "I tried to talk with you many times over the last few months, but you were not ready to talk. Now here we are…so let's talk."

There was a hint of sarcasm, even anger in her tone, and clearly Trip heard it. He bent his head, acknowledging her right to be mad at him.

"You're right. You _did_ want to talk, an' I should have listened to you. We should have talked things out long before now. I take responsibility for that. You were right an' I was wrong."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. She had never known Trip to be so…agreeable, so reasonable. Her shoulders dropped some, and her face softened. She suspected they still would end up fighting, in some form or another, but now, perhaps they _would_ really talk after all these months.

"You blamed me for Elizabeth's death."

"You're right," Trip admitted. "I did."

"You hated me."

"Yes, I did."

Hard truths had to be said, or they would never be dealt with. "But, you said you loved me no matter what. Then, when it was most crucial, when I…needed you…you pushed me away."

"Yes, I did," Trip admitted again. "I'm sorry. Sorry for a lot of things." There was a long pause. "So, since we're gettin' stuff out in the open, why couldn't you just tell me that you were pregnant? I thought you knew me well enough that you'd have known that I would wanna know somethin' like that?"

"You are correct. Trip, I acted foolishly. I was very confused at the time. I wasn't myself, to say the least.

"I should not have even been pregnant. I was sick, my control was all but gone. You had left for _Columbia_ and our parting had not been pleasant. I was not pleased with you… I was…angry."

"So that's why you didn't tell me – because you were pissed off at me for leaving _Enterprise_?"

"No, not exactly" She faced him unflinchingly. "I was angry at you for leaving me."

"Leaving you?" He laughed incredulously, his tone one of gathering anger. "That's ridiculous. You'd dumped me for Koss! You treated me like a goddamned pariah, an' I couldn't take it anymore."

"You said you didn't leave because of me."

"Yeah, well, I lied! I _lied_, T'Pol. You'd made it clear that you didn't want me, and I just couldn't be around you anymore. It was just too hard. I couldn't concentrate, couldn't do my job. I felt like I couldn't breathe."

"I asked you to come back," T'Pol said, her voice wavering despite her efforts to keep it steady.

He nodded, conceding the point. "Yes, yes, you did. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, we had a chance. An' I have to admit things were goin' pretty good for a while."

It was obvious – all too obvious – what had changed things.

"Then we found out about Elizabeth," she said in a low voice. "And you discovered that I had…kept something of great importance from you.

"Trip, I did not do it to hurt you. I simply tried to handle my situation the best way I knew how, with logic. And for me, the logical thing to do was to seek help, and if the child survived, I would tell you about her. If she did not, then there would be no need to tell you, to burden you with the loss. I didn't want you to think I was using the child to lure you back to _Enterprise_. If you came back, I wanted it to be because you wanted me and me alone."

"Okay." Trip was listening intently, frowning. "I can appreciate that, but…"

She held up her hand.

"Please let me finish," she said. "I have gone over this so many times in my head. Now that I have a chance to say it, I want to, I _need to_ say it in the way it should be said."

After a moment he nodded for her to continue.

"When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted more than anything to have the baby, _our_ baby. I wanted more than anything to be able to contact you and tell you that I was carrying your child. That is why I sought help. I thought I was doing the right thing, the best thing I could do for our child. I went to the Earth hospital where Phlox sent me.

"I really tried, with everything in me, to hold on to the pregnancy. I wanted the child so desperately. She was all I had left of you." T'Pol stood and began pacing around the room with her hands clasped behind her back. Even now, it was hard for her to relive that period of mental and emotional chaos.

Trip dropped his head into his hands for a moment, but did not interrupt.

"I so wanted to be able to present our child to you. I-I wanted, wanted you to be proud of me. But, it was not meant to be," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "When I was told that she had died, a part of me died as well. The pain was more than anything I had ever experienced.

"It was too much for me. I thought it would certainly be too much for you. Anyway, I had failed. I had failed our child and I had failed you. I thought there was nothing left, so I did not tell you. At the time, I thought it was for the best.

"I was wrong, you had a right to know and you deserved to know. I am sorry, so very sorry. I only hope that one day you can forgive me for depriving you of that time with her, I … am … so …sorry." She began to sob.

Clearly unable to bear her crying, Trip stood and hurried over to her. He put his arms around her and held her as she sobbed softly. Finally, he led her back to the bunk and took tissues and wiped her face.

She still could not look at him.

"Thank you." The tenderness in his voice made her look up at him. "Thank you for letting me know, for just bein' honest. You did what made sense to you, not what would have made sense to me, or what have made sense by human standards or perspective. You didn't know.

"An' if we're both bein' honest about things, I'm sorry for trying to make you act and react the way a human woman would. For tryin' to make you be something that you're not; for blamin' you for Elizabeth's death," His eyes filled with tears. Anything to do with Elizabeth was undoubtedly still very sensitive to him.

"It's just that when we finally did find her…and I got to meet her… to hold her…to look in her beautiful eyes…then she died. She just died, and I just couldn't bear it."

T'Pol put her hand on his back.

"I am sorry…"

"I wasn't your fault," he told her. "I had no right to blame you. You had no way of knowing those Terra Prime bastards were going to deliver her when you were unconscious and steal her. You didn't know and it was not your fault."

They were both in tears as they leaned forward and embraced one another again.

"Now listen," Trip went on. "One thing I _have_ learned here is that to heal, to really heal and to move on, first you've gotta just deal with stuff. You can't speculate and guess what's in the heart and minds of people, you gotta talk stuff out. Then, you gotta forgive people for hurtin' you and you gotta forgive yourself. We've done a lot of stuff to each other. So, I'm asking you to forgive me, as I forgive you, okay?"

"Yes," T'Pol said. "I forgive you and I will endeavor to forgive myself as well."

He smiled "Good, that's good, darlin'." He hadn't called her that in a long time. "Now, about this 'bond' thing?"

T'Pol stiffened apprehensively, but it was a reasonable question for him to ask, and his tone was merely anxious for understanding. "Can you please tell me where we stand with it, an' where we go from here?"

"As I told you on _Enterprise_, Trip, the bond can only be severed by a Vulcan High Priest. For the last few months we have been blocking one another rather successfully. But, once you return to the ship, that may not be so easy. The bond will not be denied and it is strong even though we have not actively nurtured it."

"So, why didn't you explain all this to me when it first happened? It wasn't so much that I didn't want to be connected to you, I just felt like it was one more thing that you kept from me. When you told me that we were married, I just…just lost it. It wasn't like I didn't like the idea, not of itself, but it felt…like you'd taken away my freedom of choice."

She nodded. "I should have explained it in depth when the Orion women came aboard _Enterprise_. I was however…afraid. I thought I was going to lose you again. It seems I did anyway," T'Pol admitted, lowering her head.

"You know what?" Trip grinned. "You and I are terrible communicators. When you told me you wanted me to come back to _Enterprise_, I was elated. That moment meant everything to me, everything. I was so happy, and I would have _loved_ bein' married to you, T'Pol. I just wanted to be able to be the one who did the askin', not just have it dumped on me like somethin' I didn't have an option about. It would've been nice to be asked. Does that make sense?"

"Yes. Many humans enjoy certain rituals. You are one such individual. You hold custom and ritual in high regard. However, at times, you have no problem throwing custom or tradition, the "rule book", out the window, as you would say."

"See, you do know a lot about me. So how come we just can't say what we feel; what we really mean? Why do we have to play cat and mouse games all the time?"

"'Cat and mouse'?"

"Silly games of chase."

"Silly.. chase?"

Trip rolled his eyes. "Why do we have to revert to our adolescent stage of development and act real stupid when it comes to this relationship?"

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "_Because_, this is an unprecedented relationship. I admit that I have not known exactly what is expected of me, nor what to expect of you. As a Vulcan, ordinarily, I would not be in a 'relationship'. I would be with my husband by now, taking steps to strengthen our bond and attempting to develop an affection for one another."

Trip laughed. She decided she loved the sound of it. "'Develop an affection'!" He laughed again, as if he'd never heard anything so funny in his life.

"Why is that amusing? It is a part of my culture, my heritage."

"I know, darlin'. It's just that with humans, we date. We get to know someone through dating, spendin' time with one another. Kissing an' hugging, touching…"

"And mating before marriage?" She tried not to sound too hopeful.

"Not 'matin''." He took her hand. "Makin' love."

She squashed the warm feeling this correction gave her, and concentrated on obtaining important information. "Why does the term 'mating' bother you so much?'

"Because every time you say it, I picture two dogs going at it on the street, or two wildebeest out on the savanna humpin' – some nature show on the _National Geographic_ channel or something."

T'Pol still looked puzzled, so he continued. "Sounds like just plain ol' fucking to me – you know, havin' sex just to be having sex; doing it just to fulfill your lust an' animal desire. Doesn't have to be anyone in particular, just someone willin' – you don't even care if you never see them again afterwards. I'd hope that what _we_ were doin' was a lot more than that."

"I see," T'Pol replied, finally understanding his point. They were silent for a moment. "You asked why we couldn't just say what we feel, say what we mean?" He nodded. "Could we do that now?"

"Of course. I'll go first," he replied quickly, probably remembering a time long ago and what had happened when she'd gone first. "I love you, T'Pol, and I guess I always will. We've been through a lot these last couple of years an' it hurt like hell. It hurt like hell every time you rejected me, and it was unspeakable pain when our baby died. But, all in all, I still love you. And, if we decide to continue as a couple, to try and make it work, I know it will be hard an' a lot of people won't like it. We may even have to be reassigned to different ships, 'cause I don't wanna keep sneaking around. I just want everything out in the open. In sum, if we're going to ever be together, I guess we've got a lot of work to do. Because relationships require a lot of work!"

T'Pol looked at Trip and allowed her mental barriers to slip as she felt his slowly coming down as well. The first tendrils of the bond began to reconnect, like life-giving water trickling into a river bed that had suffered a long drought. They were starting to feel one another again.

"Trip, I know that the phrase 'I love you' means a great deal to most Humans, and particularly to you. I know that when you say it, you mean it. I am also aware that if I were human, you would expect me to say it in return." She swallowed, but ploughed on; nothing but honesty would work. "That does not come easy for me. I know that since I have been here today, I have allowed my emotions to show, I have even expressed emotion. That too is not easy for me. But I want to tell you what you mean to me, in my own way.

"I have never known anyone like you," she began. "You are a very unique individual by both Vulcan and Earth standards. I am comforted when you are around; I experience a sense of safety, protection, security. I find you to be competent and ingenious in your work, and that is very attractive. You evoke feelings in me like no one else ever has. When I wake up I find I am thinking of you. When I am sleeping, I often dream of you. When I am going about my day, I am thinking of you, your scent, your smile, your 'silliness'. I have nothing but respect, admiration and honor for you. I desire you, I crave you – your touch, your smell, your entire body. I am completely enamored with you, I want you, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I desire for you to be my mate. I desire to make love to you. I desire to become one with you. I would never be parted from you, where you go, I would go. I would die for you."

Trip just sat there stunned. He seemed to be temporarily speechless.

"Wow!" he finally said. "T'Pol, that was the best 'I love you' in the history of the universe!" Then he grabbed her, pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

Then they talked about Elizabeth, the cloned babies, and their perspective investigations, Ensign Masaro, Terra Prime, the whole enchilada. They tried to leave nothing unsaid or addressed. They talked all night - well, not all night.

She rose to leave, finally. He stood facing her. They stared into one another's eyes for a long moment. Then he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her close to him, and they kissed, long, slow and deliberate. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she could feel the heat of his body. She gasped when they broke ever so briefly for air. Then they plunged into one another again-their kiss thorough and fervent. He was thrilled that he could feel the fire burning intensely between them again. Unable to quench it and not wanting to really, he pulled her down on the bunk. They found a way to relieve themselves of their garments, and with his fingers gently curled into her hair, and her nails pressing into his back, they explored one another's upper bodies with their tongues and lips; then their lower bodies. When they'd finished their exploration as if fulfilling a need to get to know one another all over again, they made love, fiercely and tenderly, sweetly and fervidly.

There was more than their hearts and minds that had to be joined, and when she finally lay quiet in his arms, she thought she had never in all her life been so completely happy.

=/\=

Before _Enterprise_ departed. and he went back to the surface, they had agreed to not sever their bond, but to take things slow, start over, and to get it right this time.


	22. Chapter 22

_Wolf Rising_

_United Earth_

_Enterprise_ was home and the crew was on leave for three months.

Jon was at headquarters being debriefed about their mission over the last year.

T'Pol had taken the opportunity to go to Vulcan for some much-needed rest and meditation on Mt. Seleya. Trip had gone through a strenuous process to better himself, and she believed she needed to do something for herself as well.

The rest of the bridge crew, Hoshi, Travis and Phlox, went their separate ways; Anna Hess would stay on the ship for one more week to consult with the Jupiter Station crew about repairs.

Hoshi had wanted to spend some time with Malcolm, but he had other plans, initially. He explained to her that he still had some loose ends to tie up with the captain. They would eventually spend some time together, but not right away.

=/\=

He had met with Harris (never a pleasure, but in this case a necessity), and been provided the results of the section's operative's investigation of the missing Tucker baby. He was dead - or so they reported. But Malcolm was not satisfied. So, he took the information and forged ahead.

His first stop was to see a woman named Mira Holland. She had provided _services_ to some of Paxton's staff on the Lunar colony during the time Elizabeth had been stolen and baby Tucker had been created.

He found her working in an establishment on Mars colony.

Harris' guy as well as the V'Shar agent had interviewed her, and she had given them some names of people whom she had spent time with during the specified time. Three of the men were in prison, two were dead and two others were unaccounted for. But it was another woman that Malcolm was interested in. Apparently, a lab technician had been allegedly killed in an accident right after Susan Khouri had died. But Malcolm was skeptical.

=/\=

_The Entertainment Center_

_Mars Colony._

Malcolm had rented a shuttle craft and recruited a pilot and two bodyguards – not that he thought he'd need them, but it was always prudent for someone to have your back if they were available, and he never took unnecessary risks, even undercover. One of his guys stayed with the shuttle (there was always a chance he'd need to make a fast exit) and the other was under orders to make his way into the establishment shortly after his employer and fade into the background, posing as just one more of the bored losers feeding credit chips into the arcade machines in hope of a big win.

Malcolm entered, made his way to the bar and asked for the manager.

"I was sent by Sophia," he said coolly. "She told me to ask for Mira. I'm looking for work." The Brit was dressed in black leather pants and a fitted steel grey shirt, covered by a black leather jacket, and boots.

"You a dancer?" The supervisor was middle-aged, with bleach-blond hair, and looked him over with an air of having seen everything in life so often that nothing could possibly surprise him any more.

"Yes." Reed smirked. "I have my credentials on this data disk."

The man took the disk, fed it into the computer slot and looked over the potential employee himself. "Mira will want a demonstration," he said pointing to the stage. "Get up there and show me what you got."

Malcolm cringed inwardly, but he was experienced at undercover work and had done far worse things than this; not a flicker of his distaste showed on his face. "Listen, mate," he snarled, the smirk disappearing, "I'm not some trained monkey that performs on cue for the hired help! I come highly recommended and my skills are in demand. I've provided you with my credentials and I was told I'd see Mira in person. Now either get her or I'll take my disk and piss off, and when she asks where I am, it'll be _you _who has to come up with the answer!"

The man looked at the Englishman and huffed. The toothpick he was chewing on was spat on to the floor, and then slowly and reluctantly he came from behind the bar. For a moment, Malcolm thought he would have to go head to head with the big brute. But the bluff had clearly worked; he pushed past him, heading for a door in the dimmest corner of the room. "Follow me," he growled.

Malcolm's back-up strolled in at that moment. The gambling machines were at the far side of the room, but for a moment he paused, his attention seemingly caught by the half-naked female dancer gyrating on one end of the bar, her beautiful face bored. Both of his hirelings had come on Harris's recommendation, and they were good at their job; if this one noticed his boss being led away to the back of the establishment, nobody would have guessed. He just started throwing credits at the dancer before him.

A young woman showed Malcolm into a room, bare of pretty well any furniture or decoration except a chaise longue that had seen better days, and a floor-to-ceiling pole opposite it whose function was fairly easy to guess. "Mira will want a demonstration," she told him, looking him up and down. "She also, uh, _samples_ all of the help before she assigns them to her customers. To see if they're just your average Joe, or in any way special. If she thinks you're something special, you'll get the plum assignments."

"That won't be a problem," the Brit purred, and fluidly began to peel off his clothes. Once he was fully naked, the young woman stared for a moment, cleared her throat and left.

A few minutes later another woman appeared – an attractive one, mid-twenties at a guess, with long brown hair. It was Mira, wearing a sheer robe with a sequenced string bikini under it and high-heeled shoes. She appeared slightly startled to find her prospective employee sprawled out on the chase lounger, as naked as a jay-bird, acting as if he owned the joint – but not, after a moment to take in and appreciate the view, particularly displeased.

"Ah, Mr. Springfield." she said, advancing into the room with a smile. "I understand that Sophia sent you."

"Yes," he drawled. "She was quite pleased with my services and I come highly recommended."

"I'll be the judge of how pleasing you are," she retorted, her hands on her hips. Then she sauntered over for a closer look at the goods.

She lowered herself onto the space he'd left available on the chaise, looking him over, licking her lips. She leaned in to kiss him and he let her, teasing at first. Then, using a move he'd perfected long ago, he wrestled her down to take his place on the chair and kissed her hard, exploring her mouth with his tongue. When he finally let her up, she was practically panting.

"That was just an appetizer," he teased. "The main course will truly be special."

She laughed a little. "I can't wait," she said in a breathy voice and leaned in to kiss him again. He was on his knees in front of her now, kissing her wildly to distract her from the fact that his hands were sneaking around to the fastening of her bikini. Then, suddenly, he snatched the fabric free from her breasts and had it around her neck so fast that she didn't have time to react.

He began choking her with it, so hard that she realized within seconds that this was not part of some kinky game he was playing. She started to struggle, but he simply tightened his grip, throttling her.

"All right, you bloody little slut," he spat, allowing the pressure to slacken slightly so she could draw in a terrified breath. "I want some information and I expect to be satisfied with what you tell me. So, if I were you, I'd be very careful about how I choose my words. They'll determine whether they're the last ones you'll ever speak or not!

"Understand?" he snarled. "_Do you understand_, or do I have to make myself a whole lot clearer?"

She nodded, staring up at him in terror. She was clasping his hands holding the bikini top around her neck, but she wasn't stupid enough to start clawing him; he'd soon have put a stop to that.

He loosened the fabric again, only a very little, just so she could speak.

"Now, you provided services on the Lunar colony to the men that worked for John Frederick Paxton about a year ago, correct?"

"W-who a-are you?" she stammered through her tears.

"_Annnk!_" he mocked, making a buzzing sound. "Wrong answer!" With that, he started to strangle her again.

She hit his hands several times, but might as well have been thumping the hull of the _Enterprise._ "O—ok…o-k," she tried to say, though she could hardly get the sounds out.

"What was that, love?" he asked sarcastically, loosened his hold just slightly.

She coughed. "Okay!" she cried. "Okay! Please don't kill me, don't kill me!"

"Answer my questions, and I might think about letting you go!" he sneered. "You worked at Paxton's mining facility, fucking the men and maybe even some of the women there, didn't you?"

She thought about denying it. He saw it in her eyes. Then she saw in his that that would not be a good idea. "Yes," she cried, cringing away from him. "Yes, I did!"

"Good. You're getting the idea now, love. You keep it up.

"Now, I want to know the names of the women who worked in the medical lab. I'm trying to find a specific lab tech. I have some very important business with her and I intend to find her, dead or alive – and you're going to help me, if you know what's good for you!"

"I can't remember any women," she sobbed. "Just Susan, and she's dead!"

"Wrong!" He shook his head sorrowfully and began strangling her again, ignoring her struggles and clawing hands.

This time she almost passed out. Finally, judging his moment, he let her go, and she fell onto the floor, coughing and holding her neck.

Malcolm gave her a moment to recover and then grabbed her by the hair, dragging her head back painfully.

"A name! I want a name, you little bitch, or I swear it, you're dead this time!"

"Okay, okay," she whimpered. "Okay…there was Susan and Brigette, I think. No, Briley!" At the threatening twitch of the fabric still around her throat she cried out in panic, clutching her neck. "But she wasn't a lab tech, she was just a domestic! She cleaned the place at night! But she was married to a lab tech!"

That piqued Malcolm's interest. "Where is she? _Where is she?"_

"I heard they moved away…they left the area!"

"Where did they go? And believe me, I'd better like your answer!"

"To Rigel X!" Mira choked out. "To a clinic on Rigel X, where they buy and sell cloned embryos! That's all I know, I swear it!"

"You'd better be telling me the truth," he growled, then leaned over to his clothes, grabbing a phase pistol and a pair of handcuffs from one of the jacket's pockets. "Get over here," he ordered, using the weapon to cover her as he moved to the pole. When she was close to him, he handcuffed her to the metal.

Satisfied she couldn't try something seriously stupid like trying to take him out, he hurriedly dressed himself. Then, when he was decent again, he released her from the cuffs. She'd wilted to the floor, crying, and he eyed her contemptuously. "Get up, and get some clothes on. You're going for a ride."

"I have to go to my room," she whispered, still holding her bruised neck.

Well, there didn't seem any alternative – even with the top back on, she was hardly dressed for the street. He gestured for her to move forward as she opened the door and led him down the corridor to another room, where she quickly dressed in denims, a sweat shirt and comfortable shoes.

Just as they were about to leave, someone knocked on the door. "Mira!" the voice said. It belonged to the man from the bar. "Mira, are you okay?"

Malcolm then grabbed her by the arm, and covered her mouth. "Answer him," he hissed in her ear. "Tell him you're fine, but that he's not to bother you."

She did as instructed, but her voice apparently alarmed her employee. In just a few moments, the door came crashing open. The big man charged at Malcolm, who shot him with the weapon he was holding levelled doorwards just in case. "_Move!_" he shouted to Mira, and she did so quickly.

Another man approached them, in the corridor, plainly having heard the noise. He ran toward Reed, who mowed him down with another blast. Moments later, as the two of them emerged into the bar area, several others appeared to have decided to join the party, forcing him to push Mira into cover and open fire. But Malcolm's man was in position feeding the slot machines by now, and started punching some of the locals who had unwisely attempted to interfere. They apparently took exception to Mira being borrowed.

After a few minutes, the two men exited the bar – with their prisoner in tow, though definitely not happy about it. They raced for the shuttle, and Reed's bodyguard took a projectile hit to the shoulder. He didn't stop running however, until he was inside the pod, and then it lifted off.

=/\=

_Rigel X_

Malcolm and his team arrived at their destination the next day. They'd hacked into the local government computers to locate the clinic where Briley's husband worked, and a few rather forceful persuasive measures had induced Benton Baxter's colleagues to provide them with his home address. Well, no serious harm had been done really, and the clinic was definitely not one that operated within legal or ethical guidelines. It would probably have been a salutary lesson to them, being knocked around a bit and threatened with having a flammable substance poured on them and set on fire.

Malcolm and Mira walked up to the residence of the couple he was looking for. He'd put some work into making her too scared to disobey him, but he was still ready to reinforce the lesson if he had to. He hoped she wouldn't make it necessary, but if she decided to be that stupid…

He really hadn't planned on killing anyone that day, but the thought of coming face to face with a child-killer was doing something to him. It was stirring a part of him that he'd rather have kept buried deep inside himself. It was a persona his section 31 trainer had designated as "the wolf." And the wolf was a trained operative, a lethal and prolific killer.

Reed had led a secret life as a Section 31 operative, a spy. And he had done some pretty horrible things in the name of the Section. In order to do so he'd had to become a cold, unfeeling bastard – closer to an animal than a human being. But in order to become civilized again so that he could function on a day to day basis, control his impulses and serve on a starship, he'd undergone an intense de-programming process. It had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do.

Malcolm had felt stirrings of the wolf during the Xindi mission. The thought of seven million killed on his home world, one of which was his best friend's sister, had made something shift in the darkness to which it had been consigned.

Fortunately, the Brit had been able to keep the beast in him suppressed so that he could do his job. But he had felt that something shift again when he had seen those children dumped in the river by the Orions. He had felt it during the fight with his crewmate, Reynolds. Unfortunately, by this time it was getting powerful, getting closer to the surface; he had beaten the man pretty badly as a result. It was an internal rage that he couldn't control – the need for revenge, to administer his own brand of deadly justice, a desire to kill…_and he liked it_.

"_Stop it, you bloody fool!"_ Malcolm said to himself desperately. _"You're not going to kill anyone! You're going to do your job and find out what happened to your friends's child! Then you're going to bring them to justice! You will not stage your own little private war against Terra Prime and the Orions!" _But of course, he couldn't promise anything. The other side of him was listening, smiling and feral, smelling blood.

Mira rang the chime and a young woman came to the door, looking pleased and surprised when she recognized one of her visitors. She was about twenty, fair-haired, average; looked nice enough, but that wouldn't stop him, had never stopped him…. Following his instructions to the letter (so far so good), Mira introduced him as her new boyfriend and said they were just there for a quick visit.

Once inside however, things changed very quickly.

Malcolm tied Mira up, then forced Briley at gunpoint to call her husband and tell him there was an emergency at home. Actually there was, and his name was Malcolm Reed. Then he tied Briley up too, with practiced efficiency.

Benton arrived home within the next fifteen minutes and as soon as he was inside, Reed jumped from behind the door and felled him to the floor with a blow from the butt end of the pistol. Then he began kicking the man mercilessly as the women cried and wailed.

When he'd handed out a decent bit of punishment, Malcolm squatted and grabbed Benton by the front of his shirt.

"There was a baby in Paxton's medical facility, and I don't mean the little girl! I'm talking about the binary clone, and I want to know what happened to him!" the wolf demanded.

The bleeding man sagged in his grasp, trying to find his voice. He gasped and coughed, then choked out, "He…he died! Three days before the girl was t-taken a-away!"

"How?" Reed demanded. "I want to know how he died and who did it."

"Are…are you going t-to kill us?"

"I haven't decided," their captor said, with a humorless grin. "Perhaps that depends on your answers! Now, which one of you killed that baby?"

"He..he died… natural causes!" Benton said through his bloody lips. "I swear it!"

"_Fucking liar!_" Reed grabbed the already injured man by the hair and dragged him upright. He punched him again and kicked him in the side over and over again as the women screamed.

"Stop it!" Briley cried. "Please stop it! I'll tell you…I'll tell you what happened!"

"No!" her husband shouted. "He'll kill us if you do!"

"I'll bloody kill the lot of you if you don't," Reed snarled at her, his grey eyes blazing.

She bobbed her head and wiped her face as best she could on her sleeve. "When-when we heard…that John had been captured…" she said through tears, "we were told to destroy everything in the lab. Everything! So….so, we, got rid of all of the evidence. We wiped all the systems clean, and we, destroyed all the DNA samples, the test subjects – the embryos as well!" She saw the look on his face and shrank away. "You don't know what they were like – we didn't dare do anything else than what we were told!"

"How?" Malcolm demanded. "How did you destroy the embryos?"

"We…incinerated them," Benton said dully from the floor.

Malcolm turned on him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting his upper body again, just off the floor. He'd snatched a carving knife from the kitchen and now held it under the bastard's throat. "The child?" he hissed, pressing the blade against the flesh until a line of red ran down. "And did you incinerate a child?" He could feel his darkness rising, and in his mind's eye he could see himself tearing out the terrified man's throat with his teeth.

"_Did you incinerate that child?"_

"No!" Briley screamed. "Bennie was told to, but he wouldn't do it! The baby was still alive! So, Mason, his colleague, gave him something to stop his heart first!"

Malcolm gasped for breath, fought to control himself and wasn't even sure he wanted to any more. The darkness was too strong, his defenses too weak. He would start killing next. And he would enjoy it.

"I didn't do it!" Benton screamed. "I swear it! I didn't give him the drug! I just gave him a sedative! I couldn't kill a child, I just couldn't!"

"So it was you then, you little bitch!" the wolf shouted, turning his attention toward Briley. He dropped her husband, raced over to where she was sitting. He slit her bonds with one swift movement, freeing her from the chair and grabbed her around her neck, lifting her up from her seat. Mira cried out in terror as Briley tried to speak but could hardly get the words out.

"No…no! I was told to throw h-him in the incinerator! But I couldn't! I couldn't! I took him and I swaddled him…and I put him in my duffle…and…"

Suddenly, Malcolm heard something from the back room. He didn't think anyone else was there, but then he heard it again. "What was that? _What was that noise_?"

"I need to go in there," Briley said. "Please! I'll show you! If you don't kill us, I'll show you!"

"Go!" Reed said, pushing her roughly in the direction of the door to the back room. "If you're not back in thirty seconds, they both get it right between the eyes!" he warned as she raced to the door.

She wasn't away nearly that long. When she returned, Malcolm was completed stunned.

At first he was speechless. Then he looked at each one of his terrified, helpless victims.

He moved over quickly toward Briley. "Who…_who the hell is that?_" he shouted.


	23. Chapter 23

_Out of the Shadows_

_One Week Later_

Trip had completed his final week of classes on Zanaria Prime and it was finals week.

He sat, relaxed, at the desk in front of his classroom waiting for his students to finish their final exam. As he did so, he reached into the bottom desk drawer and pulled out the prototype that his deceased student Tyrell had given him.

He'd thought about that talented young guy a lot lately. Zenaria's culture didn't allow for funerals or memorials when someone died. Their tradition was to perform an action to honor the deceased, thus memorializing them. Tyrell's family had donated a plot of land to the city and constructed a park for people to visit and where children could play. His classmates had written an article and had it published in the school newsletter, discussing their classmate's love for learning in hopes of encouraging and uplifting other students struggling with their classes. Some of his friends planned to take a trip that Tyrell had always wanted to take, but never did.

Trip had been thinking about what _he_ could do to honor his young friend in whom he had seen so much of himself. He thought about several things as he held the fuel injector, tossing it from hand to hand. He thought about how the young inventor had used a dangerous chemical to power it and that it seemed heavier than it really needed to be. Perhaps Tyrell thought the denser it was, the better able it could contain the trillium it housed.

As student after student sent their exam to his PADD and said goodbye, he suddenly thought of something. What if another chemical could be used to mix with the deuterium that was currently used in the inter-mix? It had to be something potent, but not dangerous. It needed to be something in between deuterium and trellium.

Thinking about dangerous chemicals caused him to remember the Xindi and that wretched kemosite that the Xindi Arboreals had been manufacturing back in the Expanse. It was going to be used to power the Xindi weapon. The thought of it disgusted the engineer. But then it came to him in a flash of inspiration – kemosite was the ideal compromise material!

He'd seen the schematics of the Xindi weapon that Shran had provided them with way back then. But he didn't have the information with him now, and it was classified anyway, so he couldn't get his hands on it even if he tried.

The engineer then thought of something Tyrell had said to him: "Oh no sir, _you_ are the brilliant one. It's just that you have chosen to suppress the fullness of your intellect." Then he thought about what E'Vaine had said to him when she said that he reminded her of her son: "Like him, you have a brilliant mind, but you are content to hold yourself back – refusing to be all that you are meant to be."

Lastly, he thought about what the healthy version of himself had said to him in the mindscape: "Now you're startin' to recognize yourself. I've been waiting a long time for this. To come out of the shadows and to just be me. You've held me back for so long though, let your pain, your fears, your doubts, your so-called humility control me. It's time though, to be the real deal! To be the brilliant, extraordinary, truly gifted person I was created to be. Now that you've set me free, let's go turn the universe upside down!"

Trip smiled to himself. "Okay," he said. "Let's do it."

When he went back to his apartment that night, he sat down at his computer and started to think, because he _had _seen the schematics of the Xindi weapon. So, he decided to let that photographic memory of his go to work. He had become so accustomed to, for all intents and purposes, 'hiding' his gifts that he wondered if he could bring up the image in his mind.

He remembered when he was in middle school how teachers and his classmates were always pushing him to write things down and how he'd touch his temple and pointedly tell them that 'it's all up here'. But his teachers forced him to take notes anyway.

He remembered how his grandfather had admonished him not to be a show-off, with his smarts. That it made other people who were not so gifted feel inferior. He also remembered how he skipped three grades and ended up in the same grade with his brother Danny. When he was offered the opportunity to skip again, his parents wouldn't allow it. They didn't want him to surpass his older brother who struggled in school due to his dyslexia. Trip remembered how he helped Danny with his homework for a while then just started doing it for him so they could hurry up with homework and go swimming or play football. When Danny had trouble passing his tests, it was finally discovered that Trip had been doing his work and they both got suspended from school. Everyone kept telling him that his 'brain' was gonna get him in a lot of trouble one day.

He and Danny graduated high school together, when Trip was fifteen years old. He was Valedictorian, but was ashamed of the honor. He felt very insecure about putting his intelligence on display by now. He did really well in college, excelling at times, but performing just above average at others. At Starfleet Academy, he got perfect marks, until he and another student were accused of cheating. He ended up demanding that he be tested orally on the material. Needless to say, he was cleared, but the episode damaged something inside him as well, reinforced the shadowy feeling that high achieving was somehow frowned on. So, he went about displaying flashes of brilliance at times, but never truly excelling to the level he was capable of. This had been his pattern from early in life, and it continued into adulthood.

But now, he had decided that holding back was over. And now that his mind was clear, refreshed, renewed and functioning properly, that he was no longer an emotional wreck, he could do whatever he set his mind to. And right now, he needed to remember what he had seen almost three years ago. He knew that he could do it, he just needed to concentrate.

About thirty minutes later, he sat his computer and started to make notes. He didn't need the kemosite itself, just a proponent of it - dilithium. That, he could get his hands on. He was delighted to find out he could retrieve some of it locally as well. Liquid dilithium as part of the inter-mix might just give the engines the boost they needed; with the added benefit of having to use less fuel, less injectors and spend less time mixing and re-mixing the chemical compounds.

The next thing was to tackle the fuel-injector itself. Trip decided that it needed to be re-designed in a lighter form, and with the thrusting mechanism that Tyrell had designed, but had been unable to integrate and make functional. The new design would allow the fuel to flow quicker and easier, but with a built-in timer and alarm to detect overheating and potential danger. He crafted the new design on his computer.

Since he still wasn't sleepy – actually, he was feeling pretty good – he wrote a paper on how he had modified the subcarrier wave and sent out a probe through the communications system to make deep space, live communication possible. The process still needed work, but this was a place to start.

Before he knew it, four hours had passed. Ideas and engineering theories were pouring out of him so fast his fingers could barely keep up with his mind. He finally recorded his thoughts and ideas about propulsion enhancement, defensive shield technology and cloaking devices. Having had exposure to several alien ships and worked on them, he simply called up what he had seen and done as well as the possibilities he saw for the future. After years, literally _years_, of suppressing his own brilliance, he finally rediscovered the joy of his own talent.

When he was finished, he leaned back in his chair, ran both hands through his hair and laughed.

=/\=

_Three Days Later._

Trip had obtained the liquid dilithium for his project and crafted the newly designed injector in the engineering lab. He had gotten permission to test it and so, with all the safety protocols in place, he conducted a test run on the warp reactor in the training room. Much to his delight, it worked.

_E'Vaine's Office._

Trip had run over to share his good news with his friend. He was so excited because not only did he get to honor his young friend's memory, but he'd actually perfected something that could hugely influence space travel in the future.

"I wanna name it after Tyrell," he told E'Vaine. "After all, it was his invention."

"I think that's a wonderful way to honor him," she agreed. "It was his invention and he should receive credit for that. But it was your idea and enhancements that perfected it. You should share in this accomplishment."

He shook his head emphatically. "No, I don't want any credit for it. The only reason I ever bothered with the thing is because I wanted to get it in the hall of records that I honored my friend. Of course, I wanna share it with Zanaria Prime."

"That is very noble". She fixed Trip with a hard stare.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"What have we discussed about this type of thing? You are once again, taking a back seat."

"But I didn't invent the thing! It would be wrong to take credit for it."

"Trip, Tyrell's design did not work. Your design does. Tyrell would want you to accept the credit you deserve."

"I don't know." He looked down, frowning. "I feel weird about it. The initial design was his, I just modified it. I don't really want to bring any attention to myself."

E'Vaine set the cup down she was drinking from. "Trip, I want to share some things with you before you leave."

"Sure."

"You do know what we did in the mindscape was cheating, right?"

He looked alarmed. "What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is that there is no quick fix for mental-emotional healing. You are in a better place now and you're feeling well. That does not mean that the healing process is complete. You are just in a position to begin that now.

"What could have taken months or even years, we did in a matter of hours. Think of it like some type of ancient electric shock treatment. You were acute, in a really bad place and needed to become stable. The mindscape experience provided that. But I would like you to continue with treatment."

"But I feel fine!" he protested. "I feel great, as a matter of fact! You taught me how to talk things out, how to recognize symptoms of depression in myself, and hell, you even taught me how to meditate. T'Pol tried a couple of times, but I didn't take it seriously."

She smiled faintly. "Yes, we've talked about many things over the last few months and you've become adept at meditating. But I know that you still have some issues, evidenced by the conversation we just had about the invention. What _you_ see as humility, _I_ see as low self-esteem. That comes from your childhood."

"Now wait a minute – I had a great childhood!"

"I'm not saying that you didn't. But Trip, your family encouraged you to be someone other than who you really were. They taught you to suppress the real you, to hide the fact that you were a potential genius. I don't think they meant any harm, or did it to hurt you. They just didn't know how to deal with you. This has led to your developing poor self-esteem. You need to work on that."

Trip looked away a moment. "I trust you E'Vaine, you know that. So, okay, I'll work on it."

"I also want you to contact Ah'len, if possible."

Trip flinched slightly at this suggestion. "Why the hell would I wanna contact that bitch!" he said bitterly.

"To find out once and for all if her child has any of your DNA. In the alternative, you could write her a letter telling her everything you feel about your experience with her. Even if you never send it. You realize your issues are with her rather than the child- the very mention of Ah'len's name still invokes anger in you."

Trip bit his lip. E'Vaine was right, this subject did in fact still have the ability to stir a little anger in him. Realizing that, he agreed to do as the doctor suggested. "Alright," he said raising his hand in a gesture of surrender. "Might as well deal with that too I guess."

"I am glad you see it that way. But I don't want you to tackle any of this alone," the Vulcan continued. "I want you to seek out a professional. I also want you to be aware that you may need to continue counseling so that you do not fall back into a state of depression. As I said, you feel better now, but you have to do some things to remain healthy. Such as taking care of yourself: eating properly, resting and sleeping well, exercising, alleviating stress as much as possible and not overworking yourself."

"I can do that," Trip replied cheerfully. "I don't wanna lose the progress I've made here."

"Good! And remember, do not bottle things up that distress you, talk them out with those involved. If you sense any symptoms of depression, talk to your doctor immediately. Since you are opposed to taking medication, you are really going to have to work to stay healthy. Meditation will help as well. Promise me that you will do what's necessary to continue with the healing process."

"You're motherin' me again," he remarked with a wry smile.

"Trip," E'Vaine said in a firm voice – actually sounding more like his mother than she'd done before.

"Alright, alright, I promise."

"Very well."

"Can I ask you something though?"

"By all means."

He hesitated, but he needed to know. "What's gonna happen to Neila?"

"Neila will remain here under my care. Perhaps at some point her sentence will be commuted and maybe she will be able to rejoin her family."

"I can't believe they wanted to execute her, she's just sick in her mind. And forcin' her to live out the rest of her life on another planet, well that just feels like a 'cruel and unusual punishment' to me."

"Not everyone views mental illness in the same way. On many worlds, she would have surely been executed, as some do not even recognize the existence of mental illness or make concessions for those who suffer from it. But in this case, I am simply glad Nelia was allowed to come here. She will always be well taken care of by those who understand the situation."

"That's good to know," Trip said.

"Very well," she said, nodding. "And now, just one more night here and you're off."

"Yeah, it's weird. I feel like a totally different person than when I came here. And I wanna say thank you, Dr. E'Vaine. From the bottom of my heart. I'll never forget what you did for me."

"It was my pleasure," the Vulcan said, smiling. "Just as it is my pleasure to host your going away party tonight. So off with you. I have to get home to prepare."

Then they stood up. But before he left, Trip asked if he could hug her. She agreed.

He hugged her tightly and kissed her on her cheek.

"See you tonight, my friend," she said and waved him away.

He glanced back just once as he turned at the end of the corridor.

She was standing in the door of her office, watching him go, and if he hadn't known better he'd have sworn she was wiping away tears from her eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

_Miracles_

E'Vaine had shared with Trip that in order to remain healthy he was going to have to do some things. He would have to take care of himself at a high level with his diet and exercise. He could not over work himself and get plenty of rest – even though truthfully, he could function perfectly well on three hours of sleep per night; but out of respect for her advice, he vowed to rest for five or six.

She'd also suggested that he do some other things, such as confronting things that bothered him immediately and not let things fester, and communicating with people directly rather than attempting to guess or speculate about what was in their hearts and minds. He was told to seek help as soon as he realized something was not well with him or that there was any evidence of depression, and that was an order he intended to comply with whether he felt like it at the time or not.

Lastly, she'd advised him to get some closure with a few other things. For one, he should attempt to communicate with Ah'len to find out once and for all if her child truly had any of his DNA. In the alternative, he could write her a letter and tell her how he felt about their encounter.

She told him that he would have to come to terms with the fact that he might not ever find his missing child. But he should contact Malcolm as soon as he got home to find out the status of the investigation.

He attended the party seeing him off – which was kind of sad, because he was leaving, and good, because he was leaving in so much better a condition than he'd arrived – and the next morning, he left Zenaria Prime.

=/\=

_Two Weeks Later._

Upon returning to Earth, Trip was naturally anxious to see his family. It had been a long time since he'd seen them.

T'Pol was just returning from Vulcan and he met her at the transport pad where her shuttle dropped her off. They'd planned on hurrying off to his parents' home so he could introduce her to his family. But Malcolm had contacted Trip and insisted – with a vehemence that was surprisingly in the usually diffident Brit – that he postpone his trip for a day or so.

Tucker was annoyed by the delay and irritated by Malcolm's insistence, but agreed to meet him on _Enterprise_ as soon as he'd picked up T'Pol.

"What could be so urgent?" she asked as they caught the shuttle Jon had sent to bring them back to the ship.

"Beats the hell out of me," Trip replied wearily. "But Malcolm all-but threatened me to get me to agree to this little visit."

"It is uncharacteristic of Lieutenant Reed to behave so forcefully. Therefore, it must be something very important."

"It better be. I was all set to get to my folks'. I had to call 'em up and tell 'em we were gonna be a day or two late. They were really lookin' forward to meetin' you," he said as he took her hand and squeezed it lightly.

"I am looking forward to meeting them as well. A little anxious, but still looking forward."

"Don't be nervous, darlin'." He kissed her hand. "They're gonna love you, because I love you."

T'Pol smiled a small smile at him and they chatted about other things until they reached _Enterprise_.

On emerging into the shuttle bay, they'd been asked to join the senior staff in Sickbay of all places. The request made no sense, but then none of the rest of it did either. Resigned, they set off to get whatever the big deal was over and done with.

When they arrived, everyone was there – Phlox, Jon, Malcolm, Hoshi, and Travis, all wearing looks of suppressed excitement.

Trip and T'Pol looked at one another. They'd been holding hands for support on the way here. The last time they'd all met up in Sickbay, it had been when they learned about Elizabeth.

"Well, you made it!" Phlox said with a grin. "So glad you could join us!"

"Okay, what's wrong?" Trip demanded, folding his arms a bit defensively.

"Nothing," Jon replied in a nonchalant voice that wouldn't have fooled a five-year-old. "What makes you think something's wrong?"

"All of you, here in Sickbay. Something has to be up, so come on, spit out – what is it?"

"Perhaps we wanted to just get together to have a going-away party," Malcolm suggested with a wry grin.

"That is unlikely," T'Pol responded repressively. "If that was the case, Human custom would have required pastel-colored decorations, alcoholic beverages and a cake with writing on it. I doubt this is a party."

Jon and the others had to stifle a laugh. "Okay, you got us there," he conceded.

"Would someone just tell us why the hell we're here?" the engineer finally asked, trying not to sound too exasperated – the air of barely-controlled excitement was becoming extremely irritating. "We got things to do, you know – places to go and people to see. As in, my friggin' family, for one!"

"Oh well right you are, Commander," Malcolm replied airily, and turned to Phlox's assistant. "Ensign Cutler, would you please do the honors?"

"It would be my pleasure, sir!" The young woman beamed, then hurried into one of the back rooms in Sickbay.

"Why don't you and T'Pol have a seat?" Jon said, as Travis and Hoshi pulled two chairs forward and placed them side by side.

Trip looked at the two ensigns, clearly so anxious for them to sit down, and then back at the others. They were all still trying to hide their amusement, and it was getting more annoying by the minute.

The intended victims of this crazy prank (whatever it was actually going to turn out to be, if it ever did) looked at one another again. "Okay, that's it," Tucker said, throwing up his hands. "What is this? Somebody better tell me what's going on or I'm outta here!"

"Aw c'mon, Commander," Travis said coaxingly. "Have a seat, sir. After all, the two of you are the guests of honor!"

"'Guests of honor'?" T'Pol repeated, perplexed.

"Thought you said this wasn't a party," Trip asked, more puzzled than ever.

"Oh, it's a party all right!" Travis's grin spread all over his face, as he was clearly unable to contain it anymore.

"Go on," Jon said, pointing. "Have a seat. This will only take a moment, and then you can be on your way. But just indulge us for a minute, please. You won't regret it."

Trip looked at everyone, shook his head and relaxed his stance. The sooner they went along with this crazy stunt the sooner they'd get it over and done with. He sat down.

T'Pol followed suit.

"Now close your eyes!" Hoshi beamed.

"Close my eyes!" Tucker snapped, close to the end of his patience; what did they take him for, a four-year-old? "For what?"

"Commander," Jon finally said in his 'captain voice'. "Close. Your. Eyes!"

"Perhaps if we comply, this will be over soon and we can be on our way," T'Pol leaned over and murmured, echoing his thought of a few moments earlier. Then, setting an example, she sat up straight and closed her eyes.

"Of all the ridiculous…" Trip muttered, crossing his arms again and closing his eyes too.

He could hear his friends whispering and giggling about something, and the hiss of a door opening and closing. He was just about to open his eyes and bolt, when Jon finally spoke up.

"You can open your eyes now," he said almost in a sing-song voice.

When the couple opened their eyes, they laid them on the most beautiful sight they had ever seen. It was a baby, just under a year old, crawling around on the bio-bed opposite them as the entire senior staff stood around the edge of it, grinning.

Trip and T'Pol just sat there for a few moments, frozen into stillness.

"Who…" Trip started and his voice caught. He cleared his throat before speaking again, but the sound still emerged rusty. "Who is that?" he asked, fighting down the insane hope that had reared its head.

T'Pol's eyebrows had almost met her hairline and her fingers gripped convulsively around his hand. It seemed as if she was unable to speak.

"Trip, T'Pol," Jon started, smiling. "Come and meet…your son."

"Our…s-son?" T'Pol asked at last, in a shaky voice.

"Your son," the captain repeated.

T'Pol rose slowly. It seemed possible her legs would give way as she made her way over to the bio-bed. It seemed as if she had almost forgotten how to walk.

When she finally made it there, Phlox gently picked up the baby and handed him to her.

She took the child in her arms, looking down at his blue eyes and blonde hair.

She was pale, and didn't look too steady on her feet.

"Here," Malcolm said and hurried over to get her chair and fetch it to her. Jon and Hoshi helped her sit with the child.

"How?" she asked numbly. "Where? When?" None of them had ever heard her sound so inarticulate.

Then the captain noticed that Trip still hadn't moved. He was just sitting there, with his arms still folded across his chest, and his face blank with disbelief.

"Trip," Jon said, holding out his hand. "Come on, it's okay. Come and meet your son."

But Trip just sat there. Unable to move a muscle; unable to believe what he was looking at.

The child gurgled and pulled at T'Pol's face and bounced on her lap. She wrapped her arms around his small sturdy body and hugged him, almost overcome.

"Trip!" she said finally, reaching her hand out to him. "Please!"

He finally rose, very slowly, very deliberately. It was as if he were unsure that his legs could carry him there. When he finally was standing beside T'Pol and the baby, she rose up and handed him the child.

The little boy let out a loud happy chirp of welcome, smiled and laughed when Trip took hold of him, and immediately started swatting his father on the face and pulling at his nose.

Suddenly, tears were streaming down Trip's face. He was holding the child tightly, but swaying so much that Jon and Malcolm had to grab him for support.

"Are you certain…" T'Pol started. "That this is…our child?" she asked with difficulty.

"I have already conducted the DNA test," Phlox assured her. "There is no doubt, this is your and Commander Tucker's offspring."

"That's why we had you both meet us here," Jon said kindly. "There is no way we were going to even tell you anything about this child until we were sure."

"How did you find him?" Trip demanded, snatching a paper handkerchief that Liz unobtrusively offered him, and blowing his nose. "_When_ did you find him?"

"It was all Lieutenant Reed's work," the captain replied, gesturing. "I'm afraid he's the culprit."

The new parents looked at Malcolm, who was standing there with a faint, embarrassed smile.

"Thank you!" They both said it simultaneously.

"So…do we…get to keep him?" Trip asked, still so stunned by developments that he could hardly formulate a coherent sentence.

Everyone laughed. "He's your son, Trip," Jon smiled. "So yes, you get to keep him."

"What happened to his ears?' T'Pol asked, touching the baby's rounded ears and looking at Phlox, who glanced at Malcolm for the information. "Or were they like this when he was born?"

Reed cleared his throat. "They've uh, been surgically altered," he explained. "The couple who took him apparently thought it would raise less suspicion if he looked more human."

"But that shouldn't affect him at all," Phlox interjected cheerfully. "He will get along quite well without the Vulcan ears."

"Are you saying he's okay?" Trip asked with a worried glance. "He's not in any danger?"

"He perfectly healthy," Phlox said. "Apparently, Paxton's doctors figured out what was wrong with Elizabeth and corrected those issues in her brother."

"Okay," Jon said. "Why don't we all leave the parents alone for a while so they can get to know their son in a bit of peace and privacy."

They all protested a bit – Hoshi and Liz most of all – but the suggestion was more of an order, really, and eventually everyone reluctantly headed for the door. But Trip handed the baby to T'Pol and quickly hurried over to Malcolm before he could make his escape.

"Lieu-ten-ant Reed," Trip said as he stood in front of his friend. "Did you ever know, that you were my goddamned, fuckin' hero! I could…kiss you!" Then he took Malcolm by the face as if he were about to do just that, except that Mal recoiled with a look of comical dismay.

"Whoa, let's not get carried away, mate!" he said.

T'Pol then hurried over and handed the baby back to Trip. "Surely, you would allow _me_ to give you a small token of appreciation, as I am forever in your debt," she said. Then, evidently perceiving his slight blush as permission, leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

The Englishman smiled a lopsided smile, and blushed a bit more, but as soon as he was free again Hoshi grabbed him and kissed him deeply, right there in front of everybody.

Liz Cutler then stepped right up to the Brit, turned him around to face her, dipped him slightly and kissed him on the lips – hard. And as if that wasn't bad enough for the now dismayed lieutenant, Travis grabbed him and planted a big, playful, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

Jon just watched, laughing at the crew's enthusiasm and Malcolm's embarrassment. But when Phlox pretended to lean in, Malcolm's eyes grew wide with horror.

"Bloody hell, enough's enough!" he protested, holding Phlox at bay. Then, as soon as he glimpsed a path to freedom, he made a mad dash out of the room.

Everybody all laughed. Today, now, it felt possible to laugh at practically anything.

=/\=

_Later._

Trip and T'Pol held their beautiful baby boy, still trying to take it in: their son had been found, alive!

"Would you like to rename him?" T'Pol asked. "According to Doctor Phlox, his captors apparently called him Xyan. Perhaps we could name him something of our choosing."

"I don't know, I kinda like that name," Trip said thoughtfully. "Xyan." The little boy looked up at the sound of his name and said "Ze-an." He was already starting to form simple words.

It turned out that he was a little older than the initial findings had reported, too. Phlox had said that biologically speaking, he was ten months old.

"You see, he's already answerin' to it." Trip smiled and let the little boy pull fistfuls of his hair.

"Very well." T'Pol inclined her head gravely. "What about Xyan Charles Tucker?" she suggested, looking at her mate.

"I like it," Trip grinned. Why the hell would she think he mightn't?

"Da-da," the little boy said, stopping to look closely into his eyes. "Da-de!"

Trip felt the prickle of sadness for a moment. "Well, I'm sure he's not referrin' to me. He doesn't even know me, know us. He's probably lookin' for that bastard who took him."

"That is why I think we should cut _all_ ties associated with them," T'Pol told him firmly. "He is young enough that he will forget them soon. But despite what we just agreed, I think we should rename him."

"I see what you mean," he nodded. It was definitely best to start afresh on all counts; the baby's life was just starting now, his real life, with parents who loved him to bits already.

"There is only one name I would want to call him," she announced. "Charles Anthony Tucker, IV."

Trip grinned widely. "I love it!" he beamed, bouncing the child.

"But what will we call him? Your father is Charles, and you are called Trip. Your brother's son is Daniel Charles Tucker, and they call him Charlie."

"We'll call him Four!" Trip said without missing a beat.

"Four?" T'Pol repeated.

"Fo!" the baby stated.

"See, he already knows his new name."

"Four it is," T'Pol agreed, keeping her face straight with stoic Vulcan calm. "Now, we just need to decide where he will live."

"He'll live with us."

"We can't raise him on a starship."

"I wasn't suggestin' we do. But look, first things first. Let's get married."

"Married?"

"Yes, married. I wanna do this right. He deserves to be raised by both of us, living in the same space. We can get married an' then figure out the rest afterwards."

"But Trip, you know we are already married according to Vulcan law."

"Sweetheart, that may be true. But I don't _feel_ married, even if Vulcan considers us to be. I want a ceremony – an Earth ceremony, nothin' fancy. But we need to get married so it'll be recognized on my world too. If you wanna do something official on Vulcan later, count me in."

"That may be agreeable. I would like to present the two of you to my clan members."

He had no idea what marriages on Vulcan consisted of. "And if they don't accept us?" he asked dubiously.

"Then it will be their loss. But I will likely resign my commission now."

"Why would you do that?" he asked with a frown.

"Because I need to bond with him, spend time with him, so that he in turn will bond with us. He is part Vulcan, there is much he will need to learn. I will be his teacher. He is already behind in that part of his mental development, having been raised by a Human carer all this time."

He took hold of her free hand. "I understand that, but I hate to see you give up your career."

"He is more important to me than any career," she said firmly. "I am his mother. It is my responsibility. I do not wish for him to spend more time with a caregiver than myself. It is the Vulcan way."

"If you insist. But we need to figure out where to live. I guess that's gonna depend on where I can find work."

"You will remain with Starfleet. There is no reason for you to leave."

"Yeah but I don't want to be light years away on a starship and miss out on the next few years of his life. When I come back, he won't even know me, an' I'm not havin' that. I want to be a part of his life from right now, just like I want to be a part of yours".

He leaned forward, his face brightening. "They've been tryin' for ages to get me to take a position at HQ in R&D or on Jupiter Station. I'll start there. In the meantime, let's take our baby home."

"And where is home?" T'Pol asked him.

"Right now, it'll be my place on Earth, until we can figure it out."

"We need to go shopping. He needs everything."

"That's gonna be so much fun! T'Pol," Trip said getting choked up. "We're…we're actually parents! Can you believe it! _We've got a son!"_

"Son," Four repeated.

"That's right!" Trip said. "Son!" Then – he couldn't help it – a few tears slid down his cheeks.

He looked over at T'Pol. She was wiping away her own tears.

Finally, everything seemed right with the world.


	25. Chapter 25

_What Friends Are For_

It had been several weeks since Trip and T'Pol had been introduced to their baby and decided to get married. They had solicited Hoshi and Liz's help with planning the wedding, as it was going to be held in sixty days and T'Pol had no experience with Human wedding rituals. Besides, she'd had her hands full with meeting first Trip's parents and then his extended family, and of course getting Four settled in.

Admittedly, the couple had been absorbed in these unexpected developments in their lives, but it was not lost on Trip that a very important person had effectively disappeared. He'd been trying to speak to his friend, contacting him several times, but had not reached him. Nor had Malcolm returned any of the engineer's messages.

Trip had decided that he would ask Malcolm to be his best man. He'd run it by his father and Charles Tucker had agreed that the Brit, who had been so instrumental in Trip's life for the last few years – especially the last few months – would be the best choice. But after two weeks had passed and Trip was still unable to reach the Englishman, he became worried.

Even more disturbing was that no one else had seen nor spoken to him either. When Trip asked Hoshi what was going on with him, she couldn't say, only confessing miserably that he was 'acting weird' and she feared he wanted to break up with her, but didn't have the courage to do it to her face. He just wasn't talking to her.

Trip also knew that Malcolm wasn't really close to anyone else other than Travis, who had no information, and he didn't want to contact the Reed family in an effort to avoid alarming them unnecessarily. But when the captain called, stating that Malcolm's parents hadn't heard from him and was concerned, Trip knew he had to find his friend.

He'd gone by Mal's assigned living quarters in the Starfleet apartment complex several times, but Reed had not been there. He'd also checked in at a couple of places he knew his friend frequented; still no Mal. But Trip also knew about the Brit's _other _place - a hideaway in a remote area in San Mateo. He wasn't even sure Hoshi knew about that spot. But since Trip knew of it and Malcolm still hadn't surfaced, he decided to take a drive.

=/\=

_That Night._

Trip banged on the door of Malcolm's place over and over again. He commed the obstinate shit-head several times as well, but got no response.

"Mal, I know you're in there," he shouted outside the door. "I see your Land Rover out here buddy, so you might as well let me in, 'cause I'm not goin' anywhere till you do!"

Silence.

Trip banged on the door again, so hard he hurt his fist.

"I'm not leaving 'til you talk to me!" the engineer insisted, but there was still no response. "What the hell's going on, Malcolm? Everybody's worried sick about you! Hoshi doesn't know where you are and she's worried out of her mind!"

Still nothing. Furious, he banged on the door and rang the chime several times in rapid succession. In the window just along the wall he thought he saw a blind flip open, then close quickly.

"I saw that!" he said loudly. "I know you're in there! Alright Mal, I'm callin' the local law enforcement agency. I'm gonna tell them that I think you're dead in there or something! I'm gonna ask 'em to do a welfare check on you! I'm gonna…"

Then suddenly the door was wrenched open. Trip didn't wait for an invitation, he just barged in past his friend. Malcolm slammed the door shut so hard it was a miracle it didn't fall off its hinges.

"What the fuck do you want?' the Englishman snapped. He looked utterly unlike his usual well-groomed self, unshaven, dressed in his underwear and holding a bottle of liquor.

"What the hell is going on, Mal?" Trip demanded as he faced him, trying to conceal his dismay at the state of the man before him. "Nobody's heard from you in a couple of weeks! Your parents called Jon! Hoshi thinks you wanna break up with her!"

"That might not be a bad idea," the Brit said with a slight slur to his words. He then went over and flopped down on the sofa, taking a swig directly from the bottle he was holding. It was noticeable that he looked at the table, at the wall, at the window; anywhere but at his visitor.

"What?" Trip asked with a frown. "Okay, I get it. You're drunk!"

The Englishman sneered. "So what if I am?"

"Mal, it's obvious somethin' is wrong. Talk to me…what's going on?"

"At the moment, this fine, stiff whiskey is what's 'going on', mate," he said, and took another big swig.

"Okay look," Trip began sincerely. "I owe you a huge apology. For the last few months, the last year or so, I've been so wrapped up in my own shit, I didn't stop to think about anybody else's problems. You've always been a good friend to me Mal, you've really been there for me so I wanna be there for you, but you gotta let me."

"You don't owe me fuck-all," the Englishman slurred, waving his hand at his friend. "No one does. We all have our own mess, don't we, mate? And we all have to find our own coping mechanisms. I'm just not the 'talking it out' type."

"Bullshit!" Trip replied, leaning on the back of a nearby chair. "You and I've talked about everything and anything under the sun, from ship business, to our love lives, our hopes and dreams, our fears. We've gotten really close over the years."

Reed put his bottle down, and glanced up for a second. "OK…we've been close. And I'm glad to see you well and life taking a turn for the better for you for a change, really I am…but…"

"But what?" Trip asked, puzzled.

Malcolm didn't answer, he just drank from his bottle again, and his eyes had gone utterly opaque.

Perplexed, looking around him for some clue that might possibly explain this complete withdrawal, this refusal to engage, Trip surveyed the floor for the first time. There was a trail of red leading to what looked like the door to the bathroom. His eyes followed it, then moved over to a heap of clothes on the floor. He shot a look at the Englishman and picked up the topmost item of what was likely the clothing Malcolm had shed at some point earlier.

It was a shirt, and it had bloodstains on it.

"What the hell is this? Malcolm, what have you done?" Trip asked with alarm in his voice and fear in his gut.

"A job," was all the Brit would say, shortly.

"Yeah well, what the hell kind of job would result in _this?_" he asked, tossing the bloodstained shirt at his friend.

Reed looked back at him and then at the bloody shirt, which had landed across his knee. He opened his mouth and started to say something, but then interrupted himself. "Oh, fuck it all to hell!"

It was so weird, listening to him curse as though he didn't give a damn what he was saying; aboard _Enterprise_ he'd held rigidly to the code that bad language was improper in an officer.

He lay back on the sofa, his eyes half-closed, his face bitter. "Look Trip, I've been kidding myself you know. Living on a starship, space travel, hero stuff." He laughed briefly. "I just realized that I'm not cut out for it, not for the long haul anyway. So, I've made a decision."

"A decision?"

"Yes…I've decided to submit to my true calling. I've rejoined the Section."

"You did _what?_"

"I've got to get back to what I do best, covert operations. It's in my blood now, you know. And that life doesn't lend itself to lovely starships, family, friends or…_love_, you get that mate?"

"No, I don't 'get you'," Trip replied savagely. "You love serving on _Enterprise_, you've got some great friends who care a lot about you – me for one – and you love Hoshi, you know you do and I know you do! But you hate the Section! You told me you regretted every moment working with that bastard Harris; that you regretted the things you did…"

"Yes, well, sometimes you have to do things you regret!" the Brit shouted, rising abruptly and taking a step forward towards his friend; Trip was appalled to see his fists were balled. "You do whatever it takes to get the job done! To, to, fucking save a life! Or end one, if that's what the orders are! To _complete your mission!_"

Tucker just stood there looking steadily at him, and after a moment, with a sound that was almost a sob, Mal moved away, staggering slightly, back over to the sofa and sat down hard, groping for the bottle.

"Does this have to do with the Terra Prime investigation?' the engineer asked quietly. "With the mission that I forced you to take on?

"You had to hook up with that goddammed Harris to do it, didn't you? _Shit!_" As things began to fall into place, he ran a troubled hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, Mal," he said. "It never occurred to me what you had to do… Look, is Harris _forcing_ you to do this? Is that the price you had to pay for using his resources, his help?"

Reed took another swig from the bottle. "Harris has nothing to do with this. And if you want the honest truth, it was my bloody pleasure to beat the hell out of those Terra Primers… and to find your son!" He swallowed, and stared down at the whiskey he was holding between his hands, and finished, dully, "I just realized…that this is what I _am_. It's what I _do!_"

The despair in his voice was utterly chilling, and Trip stepped forward and sat down in the chair opposite. "Look, I'll always be grateful for what you did for me and T'Pol. But I don't want to see you throw your entire career away, your whole _life_ away, because you got in touch with a part of yourself that you thought you'd buried. But you see, that's just the problem, you may have buried it deep inside, but you didn't deal with your guilt and trauma because of what you did as a Section operative."

The Brit smiled humorlessly. "Like I said, Trip, I'm not the 'talking it out' kind of bloke. Besides, who am I going to tell? Phlox? Starfleet Medical? It will never happen; it can't happen. For one thing, the fucking Section won't _let_ it happen. You think they want me spilling the beans over what I've done? In your dreams."

"There has to be a way for you to get some help."

"I'll work it out on my own," Mal slurred, laying back down. "Don' worry, mate. I've been here before. I know how it goes. I get over it … eventually."

"C'mon Mal, don't do this to yourself. I'm guessing you got a lot of stuff bottled up, that you were affected by some things other than just this last mission. That was just your tipping point. I'd bet that you were just as affected by… by what we saw down on that planet, Chandra V, a few months ago…by what the Orions did to those children!"

"_All_ right, we're through with the confessional. It's time for you to leave now, Mr. Tucker!" the Brit said, pushing himself up and lurching toward Trip. He grabbed Trip by the sleeve of his jacket and started pushing him toward the door.

But Reed was drunk and disoriented, and Trip took advantage of that. He pushed Malcolm off of him, and grabbed him.

"Get out!" the drunken man shouted, trying to claw his way free. "I don't fuckin' want you here and I don't want your pity an' I don't want you talkin' about things you don't have the first fuckin' idea about!"

"I'm not leavin!"

"Yes, you are!"

"What's the matter? I struck a chord, didn't I? You know, Phlox told me that Hoshi, Travis, and almost every member of that away team has come to see him or sought help for themselves in other ways so they could deal with the trauma of that mission – except you and the captain!"

Reed had gone still, but it was just to get his captor off guard. With a sudden violent movement, he got himself free and staggered towards the door, where he grabbed the handle. "I _said,_ get the hell out!"

"I'm not going anywhere! You know, I seem to remember a stubborn-ass Loo-tenant who refused to leave me alone when I was locked up in the brig on _Enterprise_, because he knew my stupid ass needed a friend to kick some sense into it. So, takin' a page out of _your_ book – I'm not leavin' you alone either!"

"I may be drunk, but I'm not too drunk to kick your arse!" Reed shouted. His face twisted with rage, he ran towards Trip, lashing out. Caught totally by surprise, the American never even attempted to fight back. He fell to the floor after a rather vicious blow landed on his ribs, and a second smacked into his jaw.

"Now get the hell out!" Malcolm yelled again, standing over him, and shaking from head to foot.

Trip pulled himself from the floor and whipped out his communicator as Malcolm walked back to the sofa, jerked up his bottle and drank from it again. The Brit's eyes were closed, and he swallowed the liquor as if it was water. At a guess, he neither heard what Trip said nor cared who he was talking to.

Trip closed the communicator and looked at Reed as he held the side of his face. It felt like he'd been kicked by a goddamn donkey.

The gray gaze slid back to him, savage with threats. "Still here, Commander?"

"Still here, Lieutenant."

"Don't make me knock you on your arse again!"

Trip crossed his arms. "Well, that's exactly what you're gonna have to do, cause like I said, I'm not leavin'."

Malcolm breathed hard. "Fine!" he hissed. "Have it your fucking way!" The bottle crashed against the pine frame of the sofa, breaking the bottom half off of it and spraying the few remaining drops of the whiskey across the carpet. Then, holding it menacingly ready, he started toward Trip, who held up his hands and stepped backwards several times.

He'd seen Malcolm happy, he'd seen him sad, he'd seen him playful and he'd seen him in a rage, but he'd never seen him like this – murderous, stalking him like a wolf.

"Mal, what the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, appalled.

"I told you, Commander, this is what I am! Now I just want you to get the hell out and leave me alone!"

"You're acting like – like some kind of animal!"

"_Go away_, Commander! This is your last warning!"

"What are you gonna do, cut me?" Trip was feeling real fear now because he really didn't know _what_ Mal was going to do, but he knew the worst thing possible was to show it. "Okay," he said, gathering his courage and planting his feet apart and hands stubbornly on his hips. "Then that's what you're gonna have to do – 'cause I told ya, I. Am. Not. Leavin!"

Malcolm looked at Trip a few long moments, the bottle poised to slash across his face; and then he started to sway. He laughed, a hollow laugh of bottomless bitterness. Then he lurched into the kitchen, tossed the broken bottle into the sink, grabbed another one from the bar, opened it, and staggered to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

=/\=

_Thirty Minutes Later._

The doorbell rang, and Trip hurried to let his reinforcement in.

"What happened to your face?" T'Pol asked as soon as Trip opened the door and she saw the small cut above his right eye and the bruise on his cheek.

"Left hook," he replied.

"Where is he?"

"He's barricaded himself in the bedroom. I can't handle him on my own, as you can see. He's drunk, but I didn't wanna fight him, drunk or not."

"It was a wise choice," she said dryly. "Mr. Reed is quite skilled in hand to hand combat. I doubt you would have been able to best him."

Trip grunted. "I may look stupid, but I'm not suicidal. Anyway, he's in one hell of a state, his mind's all over the place. He told me he was resignin' his commission, rejoinin' the Section. We can't let that happen."

"How can we stop him if he's determined to do so?" she asked, reasonably enough.

"He doesn't _wanna_ do it, T'Pol. I swear, he hated what he had to do for those bastards, what they turned him into. He's just in a bad place, and part of the reason is what he did for us, investigatin' Terra Prime undercover and findin' Four. We gotta find a way to help him!"

"Somehow I don't see Mr. Reed participating in traditional treatment methods. If it was difficult for you, I would say it would be impossible for him."

"I don't know; we'll have to figure that out later. But in the meantime, while I've been waitin' for you, I've done some snoopin' around. He left this PADD laying out in the open, so I listened to some of his messages. He's supposed to meet that goddamned Harris in an hour for another assignment. We gotta stop him."

She looked reproving. "Trip, you should not have read his messages. You know how much you hate it when _you_ perceive you have been tricked or lied to."

"I'm not gonna trick him or lie to him. I'm gonna confess what I did. That's why I needed you here, to keep him off of me. Then, I'm gonna take his place and tell Harris to go to hell. You're gonna stay here and watch him."

"That is very dangerous. I should go instead. I am a trained operative as well. I am the better choice to deal with Harris."

"No, _you're_ the better choice to deal with Malcolm. I may not be a trained operative, but I know how to use a phase pistol and I know how to speak asshole. So, I'm goin'," Trip told her, his mind made up that was how it was going to be.

"Going where?" Malcolm asked as he emerged from the bedroom dressed in black combat fatigues. He saw T'Pol and placed his hands on his hips. "What are you doing here, T'Pol?" he asked coldly.

"I understand that you are in need of a cold shower and a pot of strong tea," she replied.

His lips tightened. "No, I'm in need of some privacy, which you two don't seem to understand."

"We understand," Trip said to that. "We just don't agree. You need your friends right now."

"I _asked_ _you_ to leave." The slur seemed to have disappeared; he was just icy and distant.

"No, you knocked me on my ass and demanded that I leave. Well, I'm not."

"Nor I, Mr. Reed," the Vulcan stated.

The lieutenant shrugged. "Fine, stay. I have to be somewhere soon, so I'll take myself off. Leave the place tidy, will you?"

"Oh no you won't," Trip said. "I know where you're going and who you're going to meet. I read the messages on your PADD, okay?

"Yeah, yeah, I know – I had no right, I shouldn't have. But I did! Now, like I said, you're not going anywhere. But _I am_."

"What?" Malcolm's high color drained with fury. "You fucking idiot! You had no right to read my private files!"

It was Trip's turn to shrug. "I said that already. Doesn't make any difference though."

"You shouldn't have done it!"

"Yeah, I said that too!"

"You bloody hypocrite!" His eyes blazed. "You absolutely hated it when people spied on you, lied to you and manipulated you!"

"I'm not lying to you or manipulating you, I just confessed… No, I did spy on you though. Never say what you'd never do, huh? Anyway."

Malcolm hesitated for one instant, then his temper gave away and he rushed in again. T'Pol however, had been waiting for that. She simply darted up behind him as he pulled back his arm to hit, and pinched his neck in the appropriate spot. He crashed to the floor, never even knowing what had hit him.

"Take care of him," Trip said to her. "A cold shower and a pot of that tea he's so fond of ought to sober him up. If it doesn't, just be careful, okay? Then hopefully, he'll sleep 'til mornin'."

"You too should be careful, _t'hy'la_," she responded. "If you sense any trouble or that you're in any danger, promise me you will find a way to get out of there immediately!"

"I promise, my love," he said and they kissed on the lips quickly. Then he left.

=/\=

_An Hour Later._

Trip waited on the docks back in San Francisco. It had gotten dark now, so he was cautious. Of course, he didn't know what he was doing, but he waited nevertheless. Finally, a figure emerged from the shadows.

"Commander Tucker." Harris eyed him with apparent contempt. "Fancy meeting you here."

Trip faced him calmly. "I came to tell you that Malcolm isn't comin' back to you people – not tonight, not ever."

"And he sent you to speak for him? That doesn't seem like Reed."

"Don't worry about whether he sent me or not. You and your fuckin' Section 31 gorillas are gonna back off of him. He's a Starfleet Officer now. He's built another life, so don't contact him again."

"I didn't contact him in the first place. He contacted me. Seems he was desperate to find your child. Bastard did it, too." A faint note of admiration entered the spymaster's voice. "He's good. You can see why we want him back so much."

"Yeah well it messed him up," Trip snarled. "Sent him half way out of his damned head, if you want the truth. Got him thinkin' he's no good for anythin' else, except for spyin' and doing your dirty work! I tell you, you're gonna back off!"

"I admire your loyalty." Harris grinned in the semi-darkness. "Though if you knew as much about Reed's past as I do, I wonder if you'd feel quite the same about him. But tell me, Commander, whatever makes you think that _you _can make _me _do anything?"

Trip did not speak quickly, he just moved in closer to the older man. "Look, I don't have any qualms about riddin' the planet of scum like you. I'd be real stupid to drop you right here and now, though, temptin' as that is, because I know you're sure as hell not alone. It'd be nearly as damn stupid of _you_ to attempt to take _me_ out as well, 'cause I'm not alone either (even though he was). But if you take Malcolm back, don't be surprised if you or someone close to you meets with some kind of accident one of these days – you know, hover cars malfunction all the time. So do shuttlecrafts, hell, even _buildin's_ just have all kinds of problems. You know the sort thing: electrical problems, issues with equipment – anythin' that has to have an engineer anywhere near it. Hell, even engineers make mistakes, an' well, sometimes things just blow up."

"I see." Harris lifted an amused eyebrow. "I'm impressed, Commander. That wasn't a half-bad threat. Though I'm not entirely surprised. I've watched you over the years, and I think I could use a man like you on my team."

"What?" Trip said, taken aback. "You've watched _me?_ Why?"

A sly look. "A brilliant engineer would be a priceless commodity – almost as good as a ruthless killer. And the rewards would make a commander's pay check look like chicken feed."

"I'm no goddamn spy, an' I'm not interested in your 'rewards'. I just want you to leave Malcolm alone, an' give him a chance to have a normal life. He's done enough, suffered enough. Just forget about him."

Harris crossed his arms across his chest, his mind undoubtedly clicking, thinking how he might be able to leverage this situation to his advantage. Maybe even somehow keep Reed under his thumb and snag Trip in the process… "He needs to be de-bugged…again, apparently," he said casually.

"Debugged?"

"De-programmed. I can help with that. At least I can send you to someone who not only makes soldiers, she breaks them. Helps those who want it, to become _civilized_, such that they can fit back into _society _again." He chuckled mirthlessly. "_If _they want it. We did a good job on Reed. He was a real asset to the Section. I'll be sorry to see him go."

"You'd do that?" Trip asked warily. "Why? How do I even know I can trust you?"

"You don't," the spymaster grinned. "But here," he said, handing Trip a card. "This is the contact that Reed needs to see."

Trip took the card and squinted to read it in the low light. It simply said _'Aerafina'_ on the front and had an address on the back.

"You take him to see Aeri, at that location. Tell her I sent you. She'll know what to do.

"And be sure to give her this," he added, handing over something else. It was a black business card with only the gold, embossed letter "H" on it, with the image of a hook though it.

Trip looked at it, then back at the impassive man before him. "You expect me to just leave him with some stranger?"

"Aeri is no stranger to Reed. He's quite familiar with her and her work. Now, if you want _Lieutenant Reed_ back, you'll leave him there, for about twenty-eight days or so."

"And he's supposed to be okay in just twenty-eight days?" he asked dubiously.

"Oh, trust me, that'll be more than sufficient time. It's an intense process, and it works!" He made a gesture like a conjuror pulling a rabbit out of a hat. "The next time you see him, the _Wolf_ will be gone and your crewmate will be back."

Trip looked at Harris more warily than ever. He just didn't trust him. "So that's it? I just get to walk away now, just like that? I take Mal to this Aerafina person and she gets his head put back on straight, so then what? What'll I have to do, once this is all over? You don't strike me as the type who wants money, and I don't think you're doin' this 'cause you like me. Or him either."

"Very perceptive, Commander," the older man smiled admiringly. "I'll need a small favor, at some point in the future that's all."

"What the hell is it? Just tell me what you want."

"In time Commander, in time."

"So how do I get in touch with you when you call in this _favor _– how am I supposed to find you again?"

"I'll be in touch," Harris told him, patting him on the shoulder. "And don't worry, I'll find you." Then, he turned and walked back into the shadows from which he came.


	26. Chapter 26

***Author's Note: **We are coming to the end of this story. There's only one chapter left after this one, the Conclusion. A great big 'thank you!' to everyone who has taken the time to read the story, for all the reviews, the PMs, favs and follows, and overall support.

I wanted to give a shout out to Annastesia LaFayette, who has helped so much with great ideas and helping me work out troublesome plot points. She let me bounce things off of her and made some wonderful suggestions.

A shout out once again to my wonderful beta reader, LoyaulteMeLie! I truly couldn't have gotten this out without her assistance- her excellent eye for detail, her wonderful ideas, and editing. In addition, I'd like to thank her once again for allowing the use of her character the _'Wolf"_. I thought he was an amazing addition to the story!

Here's Chapter Twenty-Six. I hope you enjoy! Bri

* * *

_Changes_

Trip and T'Pol had the conversation with Jon informing him of their decision to leave _Enterprise_. T'Pol resigned her commission so that she could raise their son, while Trip accepted a position as Captain Jeffries' First Officer on Jupiter Station so that he could be home every night with his family.

It was all bittersweet, to say the least.

The couple had also informed Jon of their decision to get married. They asked him to perform the ceremony, even though Trip didn't still feel that sense of brotherhood or any form of real closeness between them now. But he was still their captain. And Jon accepted, probably grateful for this olive branch of sorts, and professing himself honored to be asked.

Malcolm had returned from his time with Aerafina, and seemed pretty well his old self, as Harris had said he would. The spymaster had sent two of his '_enforcers'_ to grab Reed that night in San Mateo and helped Trip get him to the secret location where he would undergo the de-bugging process.

Upon his return, Trip had tried to get Mal to do some follow-up work with his recovery, but sensed an evasion when the Brit informed him that this was 'as good as it was going to get' with him; anything to do with the Section was obviously something Malcolm wanted to keep behind locked doors. He was clearly delighted however, when Trip asked him to be his best man, and happily accepted the honor.

Hoshi and Liz were busy helping T'Pol plan the wedding, which would take place in three weeks.

A development occurred, however, that would change everything. After the unexpected death of Admiral Morrison, Captain Jeffries was promoted to Rear Admiral and Jon was promoted to Commodore. He'd accepted the promotion on the condition that he would not be assigned to desk duty but would still enjoy command of his ship.

Then, the entire Bridge Crew was called to Starfleet Headquarters, along with Anna Hess and Liz Cutler. They'd all received notice of promotions.

Malcolm was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and named First Officer of _Enterprise_. Anna Hess was also promoted to Lieutenant Commander and named Chief Engineer. Travis, Hoshi and Liz were all promoted to the rank of Lieutenant.

Instead of receiving an issue-free promotion, however, as his crew mates had, Trip was called in to a meeting with the corps of Admirals; apparently these knew that his performance as an engineer was top-notch and he was considered the best in the Fleet, but before handing him out a fourth rank pip they were concerned about several incidents in his permanent record.

But Trip wasn't worried or anxious in the least – with the wedding and his new career as a father coming up, that was the last of his concerns. He told T'Pol that he wasn't going to lie to them about anything, and they could either promote him or not.

=/\=

_Starfleet Headquarters_

_Admirals' Conference Room_

Trip sat in a chair facing newly minted Rear Admiral Jeffries, Admiral Gardner, Admiral Hiramosha, Admiral Elion, Admiral Wallace and Admiral Kendric. Jon and Phlox had been invited to attend as well. They sat at the back of the room and watched as the admirals pored over PADDs containing the engineer's service record.

It was exemplary for the most part. There were however a few troublesome entries. Firstly, the incident with the Xyrillians, then the Vissian debacle, and finally his involvement with T'Pol while they served as officers on _Enterprise._

They had read the Captain's report of the Xyrillian incident and Phlox's report of how the child's genetic material had been transferred to Trip. Now he had to answer some very pointed questions:

"Are you certain you never had sexual relations with the alien female referred to as "Ah'Len?"

"I'm positive," Trip said promptly, his conscience absolutely clear on that score. "I never touched her."

"Are you certain you did nothing to initiate any contact with the alien female?"

"No, I didn't," he said trying to conceal his disdain.

"Is it true that the alien never told you that you were engaging in some kind of mating ritual?"

"Yes, it's true. It was then and it is now."

"And doctor," Admiral Gardner began. "You really expect us to believe that this child could have been created by telepathy? Come, now!"

"Admiral, having spoken with the Xyrillian doctor and conducted my own research, telepathy _is_ in fact part of the mating process amongst Xyrillians, using the medium Commander Tucker described," Phlox stated, his tone firm and authoritative. "Therefore, I have no doubt that the child in question was created and had its genetic material implanted inside Commander Tucker's body exactly as you have been told."

"But the question of knowledge and consent remains," Admiral Wallace interjected.

Trip's head shot up. "There was _no_ 'consent and knowledge'!" he snapped. "I never consented to do anything but play a game in a holographic chamber with Ah'Len. We'd been working pretty hard an' needed a break. I was curious about the technology! That was it, an' that was _all!_"

"Commander." Jeffries, who was heading the inquiry, spoke quite kindly. "Don't take this personally. These questions may seem intrusive and unpleasant, but they are necessary to get this cleared up once and for all."

"If I may intrude," Jon interrupted. "I was Commander Tucker's commanding officer at the time of the incident and I have something I'd like to say."

Gardner glanced at the other members of what was starting to feel like a Court Martial. "Go ahead," he finally said, with some reluctance.

Jon rose up and moved closer to the admirals, facing them. "The problem I'm having with this line of questioning is that there was a full and complete report submitted at the time of the incident. There should be no question about what Commander Tucker said then, or what he's saying now, and frankly I don't understand why there is."

"You're saying you believe his account of what happened?" Admiral Hiramosha asked.

"Yes of course I do! Listen!" Jon visibly caught himself as he realized he was raising his voice. "Commander Tucker's integrity and veracity has never been in question. He's always been honest and straightforward, and I've never had reason to doubt him.

"If he says he didn't knowingly participate in a mating ritual with the alien, then he didn't. As a matter of fact, there's something that my report overlooked when I submitted it over five years ago; something that I didn't even see or consider at the time. And _that_ is that what happened to Commander Tucker was in fact an _assault_. He was sexually assaulted by the Xyrillian's Chief Engineer, Ah'Len, and I did nothing about it!

"In fact, no one did. Dr. Phlox has verified that the Xyrillians mate telepathically and that is how the Commander became impregnated with the fetus – _telepathically_. He did not know that he was participating in such an act, but his assailant did. He was not culpable in any way! If anyone should be questioned it's me, for allowing one of my crew members to be violated and having done nothing about it. I never even discussed the matter with the Captain of that ship! And Commander Tucker has had to live with this, this humiliation, all these years."

Everyone was quiet as Trip just sat staring at his hands in his lap.

"This matter should be laid to rest and he should never have to answer for it again. It certainly isn't reason to deny him a promotion."

Jeffries suppressed a smile and Admiral Elion, the lone female amongst the group nodded in agreement. "I concur," she finally said forcefully. "Unless this board is considering pursuing the assailant in this matter, I suggest we move on."

"I agree," Jeffries said.

"Agreed," the others all said in unison – except Gardner, who just grunted.

The Vissian incident, however, was a lot more complicated, and truthfully, if Trip hadn't been forced to deal with these life traumas and his anger, he probably would have leaped over the damned table by now and whipped at least two of these admiral's asses, namely Gardner's and Wallace's.

He was surprised when Jon again insisted on speaking on his former officer's behalf, especially after the dressing down the captain had handed out at the close of the incident. But Archer told the Board that when they'd encountered the Vissians his entire crew had been naïve, inexperienced in space travel and diplomatic relations. Commander Tucker was no exception.

He explained passionately that Trip had made a mistake, that he'd been disciplined for it and had to live with the consequences of his actions. That Trip had taken responsibility for the role he played in that truly tragic incident, but that if they'd wanted to recall him or impose a harsher discipline, they should have done it at the time, not five years later.

Admiral Gardner threatened the Commodore with being put on a charge of insubordination if he didn't watch his tone, but as before, there was a vote to move forward due to the matter having already been litigated and discipline administered.

A couple of the admirals then had questions regarding rumors about Trip's mental-health status. He admitted that he'd been under tremendous stress and had experienced several tragedies in the last couple of years on _Enterprise_, and then told them that he'd taken a three-month leave of absence to get some help.

They were clearly impressed when they learned how he had gone to an alien planet, taught classes at their most prestigious university as a visiting professor, and as a result forged a successful First Contact and promoted good will on behalf of UE. The discovery was so intriguing that they got a mite sidetracked, and chatted away for a few minutes about the possibilities and benefits of pursuing Zanaria Prime as an ally. The truth was that neither Jon nor Phlox had ever reported the harrowing events surrounding Trip's breakdown (at least not as such, considering it a private and personal matter unless it continued to affect his fitness for service) and so none of the Board had ever heard the details.

Trip was more taken by surprise than he should have been when he was forced to answer questions about his relationship with T'Pol aboard _Enterprise_ and whether or not he'd violated the non-fraternization rules when they served together. Obviously, he thought, it wasn't just Terra Prime who got itchy about human-alien relationships, for all that these guys were cloaking it under concerns about the effects on the officers' professional conduct. He almost got angry about that, because they'd gone over all of that when Elizabeth had been discovered and subsequently died. But he held it together. It was decided that that issue really had already been litigated as well, and since T'Pol had resigned her commission, it was a moot point.

When Trip was allowed to speak, he stood up straight and addressed them all evenly, letting his gaze travel around their attentive faces. He reckoned a few of them were on his side and most were willing to give him a fair hearing, though he wouldn't number Gardner among them.

"Admirals, I'd like to be promoted to Captain and I believe I deserve the promotion. I have the education and the experience, and I have plenty of command experience as well.

"I know I've made some mistakes and I take full responsibility for those mistakes, especially the incident with the Vissans. That is probably the incident that I regret the most and I have to live with my actions every day of my life. But I can't let that or any of my other experiences hold me back any longer because I know I have a lot to offer, and whether that be as a member of Starfleet or in private industry, well, I guess that's up to you.

"I'm qualified for the promotion and I believe you all know that. The question is, do my indiscretions outweigh my successes? If you believe so, don't promote me. If you answer that in the negative, and decide to promote me, I guarantee it, you won't regret it."

=/\=

After Trip was dismissed, the admirals discussed the matter among themselves before making a decision.

"He's cocky and arrogant," Admiral Gardner spat. "I for one, didn't like his attitude. Never have. He's too much like Archer, a loose cannon, and these incidents prove it."

"That wasn't attitude or cockiness," Jeffries stated flatly. "That was confidence. He knows he's the best at what he does. What's wrong with that?"

"But he contributed to that poor Vissian's death," Admiral Wallace pointed out with a scowl. "How can we overlook that?"

"He took responsibility for it," Hiramosha said. "He says he learned a great deal from that whole mess and regrets it every day of his life. Haven't we all done things we've regretted, and learned from them?"

"I'm just not sold on this guy," Gardner grumbled. "What about all that business about him having a melt-down on the ship?"

"Those are just vicious rumors," Jeffries spoke up, and several of the others nodded. "Personally, I admire his resolve. He's had a lot of personal issues to work through and he's done it, every bit of it."

"And he was cleared for duty by two doctors," Elion said.

"I'm not convinced," Gardner growled. "I say he keeps his rank of Commander for a couple of more years. He's already been offered the position of First Officer on Jupiter Station. We simply need to find someone else to serve as Captain on _Enterprise_ and on the station.

"If Tucker does well, and has no more incidents during his posting there, then we revisit his potential for promotion at the end of it."

"Tom, where the hell have you _been_ for the last few months?" Kendric asked, setting down the glass of water from which he'd just taken a sip. "Have you seen the things Tucker's been doing? Have you even read those articles he's published on propulsion advancement, defensive shield technology, cloaking devices? For god's sake, the guy's a genius!"

"Not to mention the patent he recently submitted for that fuel injector design," Jeffries added. "It's truly a remarkable device. It'll give the warp engine a point six to point seven boost. Do you have any _idea_ what that means?"

"Yes, but Tucker _has_ been all over the place," Wallace added, a little troubled. "Anyway, about that fuel injector device: he holds the patent, but Starfleet gets the thing, right? I mean he's not gonna sell it to private industry, is he? He did invent it while on a personal leave and didn't use any of Starfleet's resources or technology."

"As long as he's commissioned with Starfleet, we will benefit from his design. But if he doesn't get a promotion, he may well sell it to the highest bidder in the private sector," Elion said. "And he'd be perfectly within his legal rights to do so. He's sitting on a gold mine."

"He told us he didn't plan to be a Commander for the rest of his tenure with Starfleet," Hiramosha interjected.

"He was threatening us," Gardner growled.

"All he said was that he said he had options," Kendric stated flatly, casting him a look of dislike. "What's the guy supposed to do if we won't offer him a future? Stick with us, knowing we don't value what he has to offer?"

"And he _does_ have options," Jeffries said, his voice heavy. "Private companies make him offers all the time. Since he started doing all this publishing, private industry is hot after him. Once they find out about the injector device, he can pretty well write his own pay deal."

"I heard he was considering building his own repair/space station," Wallace asked. "Any proof of that?"

"It's not outside the realm of possibilities," Jeffries replied with a shrug. "Plenty out there will be willing to back him, and with his expertise, he won't be short of customers."

"We'd be fools to let him walk away," Elion concluded, looking around as if daring anyone to contradict that summary.

"I am just not convinced," Gardner said. "I think he's dangerous; potential trouble. Is there a possibility we could challenge him for the rights to that injector design?"

"What?" Elion looked startled, then disgusted. "C'mon Tom, that's low. He _designed _the device."

"And it was while he was on an alien planet, using alien materials and alien technology," Hiramosha nodded. "But I could see some hot shot lawyer arguing the point, and if we hired a good one, we might get some kind of a result. He might have been on leave, but officially he was still a commissioned Starfleet officer."

"I thought some genius kid out there actually designed it to begin with," Wallace offered.

"Tucker has acknowledged that a student of his created the original design and he perfected it." Jeffries was frowning. "He named it after the kid, and he's already said that the family will get a percentage of what he makes from it. It's called the Tyrell-Tucker Fuel Injector, or as we've been calling it on Jupiter Station, a 'Ty-Tuck'. It's truly a remarkable piece of equipment."

"Let's face it," Hiramosha began. "We all know Tucker is a brilliant bastard. He showed us that getting _Enterprise_ out of space dock early, then when _Columbia_'s launch was looking dismal, Tucker made that happen too. Ahead of schedule, no less! We all know about all the upgrades he's been responsible for over the last few years to the warp engines on _Enterprise_. Everyone has been able to benefit from his work."

"Yeah, they use his tech manual at the academy now," Wallace replied. "But I don't know. I like him and respect his work, but I have my reservations as well."

"Look, the bottom line is we all know Tucker's qualified," Elion scowled. "I don't think it's fair to hold a couple of bad decisions and his health against him. He's been cleared medically and Archer trusts him, and I'll tell you now, Jon's all broken up that he's losing him _and_ Commander T'Pol at the same time.

"And think about this." She lowered her voice and glanced around. "We _all_ know what's happening out there as we speak. What's coming down the pike."

"That's right," Jeffries said, nodding. "We know that war with the Romulans is inevitable. That's why you had me looking for a competent First Officer to help with building a formidable fleet. It's going to take at least a year. We need Trip Tucker heading up that project _now_."

Everyone was silent for a few moments. The mention of the Romulans put things into quite a different aspect.

"I say we quit wasting time and get the man promoted to Captain so we can put him to work," Admiral Elion finally spoke up. "The sooner, the better."

They took a vote, and Trip's promotion was approved four votes to one and one abstention.

Trip was now Captain Charles Tucker III and he would be heading up the project to build Starfleet a fleet of ships that could reach a speed of at least warp six. If the warp seven drive could be obtained from allies, perhaps Trip's advanced injector mechanism could push those engines to warp 7.6 or 7.7. That information however, was classified. Trip would also command the warship that would patrol Earth's solar system and protect Jupiter Station, the Lunar and Mars Colonies.

=/\=

After an agonizing wait while his future was discussed and decided, Trip was delighted to learn of his promotion to Captain. He had blocked T'Pol during his interview, and continued to do so now in order to tell her personally when he got back to his place, where she was waiting for him with the baby – who might as well have been formally named Four, because he never got called anything else.

He'd decided to walk back to the apartment from Headquarters to contemplate where his life was at this point. Things had certainly changed – and for the better – within the last few months. He and T'Pol were together, they were getting married and they had a child. He had reconciled with his family and the Tuckers had warmly welcomed T'Pol and Four into their lives as part of the clan. And now he'd been promoted to Captain, with a major responsibility being placed on his shoulders, something he was under orders not to talk about right now.

Malcolm was 'doing fine', apparently, and he and Hoshi were closer than ever. The other senior officers seemed well and everyone had received promotions. And to top it off, much to his surprise, Jon had stood up for him and gone to bat for him with the Admiralty Board. He smiled as he strolled along in the early autumn sunshine, just contemplating it all.

Life was definitely worth living, even though he knew things could change in an instant and all go to hell in the blink of an eye. But he decided that he was just going to enjoy this moment.

Because right now, life was beautiful.


	27. Chapter 27

Conclusion

Originally, they'd planned for the wedding to be held in a chapel near Starfleet Headquarters. But rumor spread about the pending nuptials between the human and alien and they began receiving death threats so the event was postponed-briefly. And, after consulting on the security issues, Trip, T'Pol and baby Four moved to Jupiter Station full time. T'Pol had appealed to T'Pau back on Vulcan for help with protecting the child, and several V'Shar agents had been sent in response, to serve on the station until the situation stabilized.

Malcolm also kept a hawk-like watch on the couple and their child, of whom he had been appointed the godfather; he told them grimly he'd be damned if _anyone _was going to get their hands on him. In other efforts to protect the child, Trip's friends begin to spread the rumor that he'd fathered a son by a former crewmember whom he'd met while stationed on _Columbia_ – that she'd recently died and that hearing of her death, he'd obtained custody of the child. Reed had even gone so far as to fabricate a record of the birth in the official registry, in the event anyone went looking. Whether anyone actually believed this or not, no one knew.

To add to the concern that Terra Prime was still far from defeated and inactive, the couple who had stolen Four in the first place had mysteriously died while in jail awaiting trial. Terra Prime was suspected, of course, but their complicity couldn't be established. Fortunately, no one knew that they had stolen the second Vulcan-human hybrid, nor that Malcolm had discovered him alive and well on Rigel X; other than Mira Holland, and she had disappeared, afraid for her life_._ His real parents didn't want to hide the child or keep him under lock and key all the time, but they were determined not to let anything happen to him.

=/\=

_Wedding Day_

A few weeks later, a different, undisclosed location for the wedding had been chosen and finally, it would take place. There was loads of security, of course, but within the cordon it was to be a small and intimate event. On a pleasant Saturday afternoon in late September, Trip and T'Pol would finally be married.

There were just thirty-five guests present, consisting mostly of Trip's family, the senior staff of _Enterprise_, Phlox, Erika Hernandez, and Starfleet's Corps of Admirals (excluding Admiral Gardner). T'Pol didn't have a lot of guests other than Ambassador Soval, Dr. Yuris and four of her young cousins. Although they clearly had reservations about their relative marrying a Human, they apparently thought it would be terribly rude and inappropriate to not represent the clan and the Vulcan government.

The décor was champagne (a beigey, pale pink color), with highlights of blue and gold. The bride wore a form-fitting dress of champagne-colored silk, with long, sheer sleeves and a deep cut-out back. There was fine lace embroidery around the shoulder and the tail, sprinkled with tiny pearls. More pearls and crystals peeked out from the cascade of her bouquet of pink, peach and white roses, in a frill of baby's-breath. Hoshi had helped T'Pol pick the dress, as she'd chosen to wear something more suited for a customary Earth ceremony instead of her Vulcan robes (when in Rome…). T'Pol loved the dress but couldn't seem to bring herself to wear a long train or veil, so it was just kept simple, in tune with Vulcan ideals.

The maid of honor, Hoshi, wore a fitted, ankle-length dress in royal blue, off the shoulder with short sleeves. The bridesmaids, Anna and Liz, wore the same dress in gold, and they all carried a small bouquet of assorted roses, in a frill of baby's-breath.

The groom wore his Starfleet 'dress whites' uniform, his medals appropriately displayed on his chest. Malcolm as best man, and the other groomsmen, Travis and Trip's bother, Danny, wore their dress whites too, with their medals likewise on display.

Captain Jonathan Archer performed the ceremony. And it was beautiful. Trip's mother held little Four throughout the ceremony. He was also dressed in his "dress whites," at least for part of the day.

The couple had elected not to write their own vows, as that would have been pushing T'Pol a bit too far. They instead decided upon a more traditional ceremony. As the Captain recited the liturgy and all of the guests looked on, mesmerized by the simple yet beautiful ceremony, the bride and groom stared lovingly into one another's eyes.

Trip mouthed "I love you," to his bride, lifted her hand and kissed it.

T'Pol mouthed "I love you," back to him, then took his hand and performed the _ozh'esta_ on it.

It was as if they were lost in their own cocoon of happiness and no one else was even in the room. Then Trip leaned in and kissed her on the lips, right in the middle of the vows. She kissed him back.

The captain cleared his throat. _"Captain Tucker, Commander T'Pol,"_ he whispered through his teeth and a smile. _"Not yet!"_

The guests all laughed and clapped.

Upon the conclusion of the ceremony and just as the captain was presenting the happy couple, an unexpected guest caught Trip's eye. _"No friggin' WAY!"_ he mouthed to her, beaming with delight at her presence.

E'Vaine simply nodded, and clapped along with the rest.

=/\=

_The Reception_

The reception was held in a small, historic hotel near the chapel. It was decorated with round tables and white folding chairs. The tables were adorned with tea light candles in the center, and pink, peach and white roses around it.

Dinner consisted of fresh salad made with organic greens to start, with organic asparagus, portobello mushrooms, and emmental cheese nestled in magenta and white swiss chard, along with a colorful dish of vegetable risotto for the vegans present.

For everyone else, there were fresh salads, together with heaped platters of bright-red steamed lobster, flank steak or free-range chicken with an accompaniment of portobello mushrooms, asparagus and vegetable risotto. Trip's father complained that he could just as well have hosted a big ol' barbeque rather than provide all this fancy food. Trip's mother had to keep kicking him under the table to get him to shut up.

There was champagne, prosecco and sparkling California wine. Also included was a variety of liqueurs, such as Chambord, Midori, and schnapps.

The band played an assortment of music and Malcolm gave the traditional Best Man's toast, managing to sound a lot less tongue-tied in public than he usually did. Then Trip and T'Pol had their first dance, and that was really, really special – it felt like the whole world had ceased to exist except for each other.

After that, he danced with his mother, and then with Erika, the bridesmaids and even with Four – much to T'Pol's laughing embarrassment.

But it was Four who stole the show. Trip had insisted that he participate in the cake cutting ritual, over T'Pol's objections. Trip held the baby in one arm as he and T'Pol cut the bride's cake. But when they cut the groom's cake, Four jerked away from T'Pol and lunged for the chocolate delight, plunging hands first into it as his mother held on to his lower half. He then proceeded to smear a caked hand over her lips, as he apparently wasn't too fond of her lipstick color, and laughed at the result.

As much as she loved the baby, there were limits. T'Pol quickly handed the little fellow to his father. The happy baby then went to place a caked hand on Trip's crisp white uniform, but daddy was too quick and caught it. But the little boy was just as quick, grabbing two of dad's medals and attempting to tear them off for himself. He kicked up a storm when he wasn't allowed to, but did manage to place a perfect little chocolate handprint on dad's uniform. The child kicked and screamed when he was denied access to more cake. He was tired of this event, apparently, and decided he'd had about enough. Grandma raced to the rescue, taking the flailing child away. Mrs. Tucker finally had to take him upstairs, wash him up and change him into play clothes. Danny's wife volunteered to stay with him while he took a much-needed nap.

=/\=

As the afternoon wore on, and all of the traditional wedding rituals were carried out, Trip finally got to dance with E'Vaine.

"I still can't believe you're here," he said, as they moved around slowly to a waltz.

"I _was_ invited," she teased.

"Yeah but I didn't really expect you to drop everything and make the two-week long hike, just for this."

"'Just for this'? This is an unprecedented occasion, and you are my dearest friend. I would not have wanted to miss this for anything."

"So, does this mean you'll be going to Vulcan? I mean, since you're so close. Maybe look up a certain young man."

E'Vaine smiled. "I have already contacted Solan. He is expecting me in three days."

"That's _wonderful!_" Trip hugged her. "I'm so happy for you! For both of you!"

"And I am happy for you, Trip! I am so happy that you and T'Pol were able to work things out and that your beautiful baby boy was found alive – and doing quite well I believe. You have come such a long way. I am so proud of you."

Trip smiled.

"So, did you follow-up with my advice? Have you continued counseling?"

"I have," he replied. "T'Pol's even joined me for a few sessions."

"What about the letter to Ah'len?"

Trip pursed his lips. "I started a couple of times," he said. "But I had to delete it, 'cause all I could seem to write was 'bitch, bitch, bitch!' For two whole pages!"

"_Trip,"_ E'Vaine said.

"Alright, alright! I'll get it done. I promise."

The doctor gave him one of her hard stares and forged ahead. "And, are you taking care of yourself?" she continued. "Eating properly, resting, not overworking yourself?"

"Yes, I am, _'mother'_, so stop it with the twenty questions."

E'Vaine just laughed. Then Trip noticed how a certain Vulcan Ambassador kept staring at them – at E'Vaine rather, because there definitely wasn't anything much about a Human engineer to get him that fixedly interested.

"Okay, so what's that all about?" he finally asked her, tilting his head in the direction of the ambassador.

It was amazing how roguishly innocent a Vulcan could look if she chose. "To what are you referring?"

"Uh, huh! Don't play cute with me, E'Vaine. Soval can't take his eyes off of us – but I'm pretty sure he isn't starin' at _me._ Now, what gives?"

The Vulcan blushed slightly. "Very well," she said. "I know Soval. We grew up together. We lived on the same street, attended the same schools and went to university together."

"And?" Trip pushed a little harder.

"I encountered him on your ship when they came for you. He had been kidnapped and suffered some damage to his synaptic pathways. I was able to cure him with a mind-meld."

"What the hell!" Trip said. "Nobody told me about that!"

"Then, the next morning, I joined him for breakfast. We were able to catch up."

"Why do I get the feelin' there's more to this than you're lettin' on?"

E'Vaine blushed green again. "You are absolutely the most incorrigible individual I have ever met, you know that?"

"It takes one to know one!" he tossed playfully back at her.

Suddenly the song ended and Soval rose from his chair and approached them on the dance floor. E'Vaine nodded at the ambassador and dashed away to speak to the other Vulcans present, leaving the two of them standing rather awkwardly together.

"Ambassador," Trip said politely.

"_Captain_ Tucker," the Vulcan replied, as suave as ever. "It is agreeable to see you, particularly on such a happy occasion." Things had certainly changed some since he'd given the distinct impression of thinking that Humans were some kind of troglodytes who should be kept away from intelligent company.

"Okay Soval, E'Vaine just told me that you two know one another. That you grew up together!"

Soval nodded, unfazed. "We had not seen one another, however, for more than fifty years. As I am sure she informed you, we have recently become reacquainted."

"And?" Trip asked.

"She has invited me to teach at her university as a visiting professor…for a year."

"A year! And you accepted?"

"Captain, when I was held captive, I was able to contemplate many things, the trajectory of my entire life. I was injured and was not certain if I would ever be the same. Then Dr. E'Vaine appeared from nowhere. She was a vision that only Surak himself could have conjured."

"You sound like you have a thing for her? Like you like her!" Trip teased. Today, he wanted to find love everywhere, even in the most unlikely places.

"I do 'like' her, as you say. But once, a long time ago, I loved her."

Trip felt like he'd been fishing for minnows and hooked a whale. He almost had to pick his jaw up off the floor. "What happened?" he finally asked.

Soval gave a tiny shrug. "We were betrothed to other people. Her family insisted that she go through with her betrothal, so she did, and eventually had a son. But as time progressed, she had to leave her mate behind as he was abusive to her. It is unusual, in Vulcan society, but I regret to say it happens, and mediation had no success in mending the relationship.

"She took the child away from Vulcan, but his father's family eventually found her and took the child away from her – they were very powerful people. After her mother died, she joined her father in his travels to many worlds. She hasn't been back to Vulcan in many years."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," Trip said. "That's sad and screwed up on many levels, but now I'm just so happy for the two of you, I could dance a jig!"

Soval was clearly so taken aback by this excess of emotion in his host that he raised both his eyebrows.

"I just can't believe you're gonna give up your job here to go," Tucker continued. "Not that I blame you though. E'Vaine's a wonderful lady, and she works in a terrific place."

"My dear Captain Tucker, I have lived a long time, and I have served for many years. As I said, my captivity changed me. So, a beautiful woman has asked me to join her for a potential future together. I would be more than a fool to decline the offer."

Trip laughed. Then he left the ambassador to continue his sedate socializing, and caught up with his old mentor again.

He got close to her and whispered, "Soval filled me in." He grinned, and E'Vaine just glared at him. "Just don't hurt him, E'Vaine, okay? He's not as young as he used to be."

"Trip! I would never, ever, do anything to hurt the Ambassador. I care for him and only want the best for him."

"I wasn't talkin' about hurtin' him emotionally," he grinned. "I've been in your head, remember?"

E'Vaine hit him across the arm and walked away, but glanced back and winked.

Trip laughed.

Somehow, today was a day for laughter.

=/\=

Things were winding down, and Trip caught up to his best man to tease him about Hoshi acting like a wide receiver after a football, to catch the bouquet T'Pol had thrown.

"Well, you finally did it," Malcolm said to his friend as they stood out on the balcony. "I always knew it would work out. You only had to follow my expert advice on relationships, mate!"

"Yeah, right!" Trip said, giving him the eye. They were both thinking about that long list of confessions of failed relationships back on Shuttlepod One.

"Look, Trip," Mal said, becoming serious for a moment. "I never said thank you for helping me out with Harris and for making sure I got to Aerafina. I was beside myself, and spoke horribly to you and T'Pol that night in San Mateo. Let's be honest, I acted like a total shit-head. If you'd reported my actions, I'd have been cashiered."

"No need," Trip replied with a wave of his hand. "After everything you've done for us, for me, you never have to say thank you. You're family now, and Four loves you. Damned if I know why, but he really seems to!"

"Because he has excellent taste, that's why. Not unlike his godfather, you know. I'll have to go up and get a peek at him before I leave tonight."

"He's probably still sleepin'. You know, for a half-Vulcan child that boy is high strung. He wears T'Pol out every day. You saw what he did with the cake and all that?"

Malcolm laughed. "I rather enjoyed his colorful exit. Don't try to temper him, though. Let him be who he really is."

"Oh, so you're giving out parentin' advice now? That's a lot comin' from a single guy with no kids!"

"Well, maybe." A faint blush stole into his face. "But not for long, hopefully."

Trip's eyes became big as saucers. "You mean–? You and Hoshi? Which part – the wedding or the kid?"

"Hold your horses! The wedding first, we'll see about children later." Then he pulled a small box from his pocket, glancing around nervously to see they were unobserved. "I've been carrying this around for a few weeks now. I just haven't found the right time to pop the bloody question."

"Well, congratulations!" Trip said, clapping him on the back, with a big smile to go with it. "But, uh, how do you plan to pull that off, serving on the same ship and all?"

"Don't say anything, but Hoshi's decided to take a position at HQ. She doesn't want to serve on a warship, and frankly I'll be relieved if she isn't. Hopefully, we'll have a bit of time together before this damned war starts. After that, we'll just have to see one another whenever we can."

"I know you guys'll work it out. If me and T'Pol can, anybody can. But seriously, you should go find Hoshi right now, find a quiet little corner and just ask her!"

"_Here? Now?"_ the Brit replied puzzled. "This is your wedding day. That somehow feels inappropriate. I wouldn't want to try and upstage you or anything."

"Forget that," Trip said and set his champagne glass on the balcony rail. "Look Mal, we may be involved in a war in the very near future. Who knows how long any of us have, so don't be like me and T'Pol wastin' precious time. Just go for it, _now!"_

Malcolm nodded slightly and considered this for a moment. Then he threw back the rest of his drink, set the glass down, cleared his throat and walked away.

"Ata boy Mal," Trip said as he watched him go.

=/\=

Malcolm found Hoshi chatting it up with Phlox and her other crew mates. He asked if he could borrow her for a few minutes. She thought he was taking her out onto the dance floor for one last dance, but instead led her out of the banquet room into the garden out back. He asked her to have a seat on a little bench and stood in front of her.

He cleared his throat and appeared to be really nervous. "When we started working together a few years ago, I never dreamed in a million years that we would…that we…uh…"

"That we would what?" Hoshi asked puzzled.

"I didn't think…Well…I care for you deeply…"

"You _care_ for me?" she repeated, wondering where this was going.

"Lieutenant…I mean Ms. Sato…I mean…" The Brit then closed his eyes. This was harder than he thought and he'd really wanted it to be special.

"Malcolm, what are you trying to say?"

"Oh, bloody hell!" he replied, took the box out of his pocket, flipped it open and dropped to one knee.

Then she got the picture. She gasped and put both her hands over her mouth.

"I've never been one for flowery speeches," Malcolm confessed. "But I love you Hoshi…that's all I know…and I'd like for us to be together, always…Will you mar…"

But before he could finish his sentence, she leaned forward and threw her arms around him. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she said, unable to contain her excitement.

"Did you even hear the question?" he asked her with a little laugh. "I could have been asking you to have my love child or something."

"I'd say yes to that too!" she exclaimed.

He then slipped the ring onto her finger, and they kissed. At the moment, it seemed as if they were the only two people in the universe.

Little did they know a certain engineer could see the whole thing from the balcony above them.

"Ata boy Mal!" he said quietly, raising his glass to the happy couple. Then went to find his bride.

=/\=

"Mrs. Tucker," the groom said. "May I have this one last dance?" He knew that T'Pol had struggled with dancing in public and all of the other touchy-feely stuff, but she'd really been a good sport all day.

She stared at him a moment, then assumed a resigned expression. "Oh, very well," she said, and he pulled her close, though she sure didn't take a lot of pulling.

"I love you, T'Pol," he said. "I love Four, I love our life, an' at this moment I wouldn't change a goddamn thing!"

"I too am quite taken, with you, Four and our life as well," she replied in perfect, sedate Vulcan fashion.

Trip laughed.

"It's been a wonderful day, hasn't it?"

"It has."

"I'm sorry we're not gonna get to go on a honeymoon right away. But I've got to get to work like yesterday. I just hope we get some time together before things get too intense."

"Soval has asked me to serve as the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth in his absence."

"Really?" Trip asked, surprised – this announcement had definitely come out of left field. "You gonna do it?"

"I am considering it, on a part time basis that is. I still want to spend as much time with Four as possible."

"I wanna thank you again for goin' along with that little ruse about him bein' my child with someone else. _You_ are his mother."

"I know that I am his mother. That is enough for me. But I would do whatever it takes to protect him, and since he appears to be Human, it is easy to keep up the ruse."

"I don't even know if it'll make any difference in the long run. Hopefully that couple that stole him didn't blab about him before they died."

"All things considered, Trip, they did seem to care for him. After all, they did save his life and were raising him as their own child."

"I suppose I should be grateful for that…still, though…"

T'Pol had been looking a little peaky during the evening, but now she suddenly looked absolutely awful.

"Hey darlin," Trip said in alarm, "you alright?"

She didn't respond. She just placed her hand over her mouth and made a mad dash out of the room. When he caught up to her, she was in the ladies' room, throwing up her dinner.

Trip had barged right in, too concerned about her to worry about the proprieties. He brought her some water and she drank a bit of it as she sat in the chair that was in one corner of the bathroom.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asked, concerned, kneeling in front of her.

She said nothing, but a blush washed up through the peeled-apple color of her face.

"T'Pol," he said, "you're not…"

She just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Then she threw up all over his dress-white uniform.

_The End_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks again to everyone for all of your support! I probably had more fun writing this than you had reading it. Until next time! Bri


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